Harry Potter and the Great Withering
by Gryffinpuff
Summary: Harry Potter is thrust into the world of Azeroth for a mission greater than he's ever faced - to save all of existence from a terrible calamity. To do so, he must earn the trust of all the races and unite them in harmony. Will he succeed in his quest?
1. In Which Harry Has An Accident

It was wrong, it had all gone wrong, what was he going to do, where had Harry gone, what had happened, what was he going to do, what was Ginny going to do to him, what was he going to do? Ernie Macmillan was panicking, and with a very good reason. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, had disappeared from Ernie's office and nobody knew what had happened.

It had been a freak accident. Harry had stopped at Ernie's office at the Ministry in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes (and Ernie was washing he worked anywhere but this department right now) for a little chat before lunch. Harry had been fingering an old Snitch that Ernie had secretly bewitched into a Portkey that was programmed to go out of his office at the same time every Thursday for Ernie's little "secret". Ernie did not want to be obvious about the Snitch - Harry had a knack for telling when someone was hiding something - but the Portkey was due to go off any minute and Ernie was trying to hint to Harry that perhaps it was lunchtime. Fortunately, the Minister had appeared in Ernie's Floo, requesting Harry's presence, giving Ernie an excuse to see Harry off. Unfortunately, Harry still had the Snitch in his hand when he set one foot into the Floo at the exact same time that the Portkey went off. Harry blinked out of existence without so much as a pop.

Harry found himself in a vast, empty blankness. It was not black like night, or space, or darkness; it was simply empty, as if a great artist had forgotten not only the paint but also the canvas. Harry was completely frozen, unable to walk or move or even blink. He started to think that perhaps this was some stupid prank, or perhaps an ambush, but no matter how hard he tried to move, he remained motionless. He felt a creeping twinge of fear begin to edge its way into his mind, but in that same instant, he felt, rather than heard, a series of voices, whispering in his mind.

-Is this the one?-

-Difficult to tell. He carries more magic than any human I've met, but-

-I think it's time we-

-Time? Of course it's time! It's nothing but time!

Harry tried to speak, but could not move his mouth. -Help-, he thought desperately. -I can't move!-

The voices stopped abruptly, and Harry felt his body relax. He also seemed to feel ground under his feet and a bright light above him. Blinking, Harry saw that the emptiness was gone, and in its place was a giant stone pavilion, inscribed with a large circular pattern. Five stone pillars encircled the pavilion, supporting a smooth stone ceiling that mirrored the floor. He guessed that he was high up in the air, most likely on a very tall tower, since all he could see below the pavilion was a frozen expanse. Around the pavilion stood a number of very tall, lithe creatures, some human, some not. Harry had only vaguely heard of elves, but there in front of him were creatures very similar to the ones he had imagined. There also appeared to be a very short humanoid female, with a rather large head full of silver hair tied in two buns, and bright, shining eyes, smiling at him. What really took Harry by surprise were the dragon statues standing next to each person, or elf, or whatever. They were monstrously enormous, with slitted eyes, curved horns, fierce talons, and humongous fangs, and each had a different color of scales: fire red, shiny bronze, royal blue, emerald green. He couldn't help but notice that the dragons bore the same colors as those of Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin, but his slight amusement was overtaken by his nerves.

The tall female elf standing next to the red dragon spoke. "Well met, human," she said, with a deep voice. She appraised Harry, and he felt decidedly uncomfortable, as if he were an interesting specimen on display in a zoo. "We beg your indulgence on the abruptness, but time was of the essence - "

The short humanoid standing near the bronze dragon laughed. "Time is always of the essence," she giggled in a high-pitched voice.

The female elf scowled. "Chromie, try not to interrupt," she admonished. She turned back to Harry. "I am Alexstrasza. And you - you are Harry Potter, the Chosen One, are you not?"

Harry could only nod, dumbfounded. "I didn't mean - he stammered, but Alexstrasza held up a hand, interrupting him.

"You would not have come here if we had not summoned you. It was no accident."  
>Alexstrasza continued solemnly. "You are wondering for what reason we have brought you here, Harry Potter. Understand that we did not pull you into our world by choice. We are all in grave danger - your world and ours."<p>

Harry's nerves got the better of him. "What do you mean? My world? What am I doing here? How did I get here? Who are you?" he rattled, his heart racing.

The five humanoids said nothing, but they all stepped back and before Harry knew it they had melded out of their bodies and into five gargantuan dragons, all very real, and all peering at him very intently.  
> <p>


	2. In Which Harry Speaks To A Dragon

"Long ago," began the blue dragon, who had introduced himself as Kalecgos, "there was a great war between the dragonflights. We lost most of our number, and we never truly recovered. My father, Malygos, went insane from the tragedy of the war, and when he recovered, he blamed magic-users for the...deterioration of magic. You are aware, of course, that magic is always changing?"

Harry frowned in disbelief. This had certainly never been covered at Hogwarts, nor had Hermione ever mentioned magic changing. "Err...not really, no. Magic is...something you're born with, and you keep at it until you get better at controlling it."

Kalecgos studied Harry. "I see. In your world, it is static. Powerful, but stagnant. Here, magic is as volatile and flexible as the very winds. There are certain...focal points and ley lines that encircle the world, points of extremely potent magic, and if they are altered, it can be catastrophic. Only the most powerful wielders of magic can affect a change in the ley lines, and my father had such power. He felt - and perhaps rightly so - that the misuse of arcane power was to blame for the war of the dragonflight, and so he set himself against all magic-users and began to destroy them. The others - " he whuffed and nodded towards Alexstrasza - "had no choice but to stop him. He was utterly destroyed."

Harry wondered what all this had to do with him or why he was here, but Chromie picked up the story, now humorless. "Magic is vital to the fabric of spacetime. You study magic; you are what we call a mage. Mages place a very high importance on the ability to move from one place to another instantly. They call it teleporting; I believe you are familiar with the concept?"

Harry nodded. "We call it Apparition, but yeah, I can do it."

Chromie narrowed her draconic eyes. "I know you believe that it is only an effect of magic. Perhaps you think of yourself as a wave of light, sent along a beam, as a lighthouse illuminates the way for a ship. Know this - it is an effect of space and time, that you are replacing yourself with a copy of yourself at another place and time, and that every time you do so, something must fill the void. If you constantly teleport to different places, the effect will be spread out and will naturally right itself *ahem* in time, but if you find yourself repeatedly visiting the same location, such as your home or a large city, the effect is magnified exponentially. Particularly when there are a large number of mages in one place, the very threads of reality can be altered."

"When Malygos began to disrupt the ley lines, he also began to send waves of magic throughout the multiverse. The Bronze Dragonflight oversees all of the major, minor, and useless timelines in existence. I have seen some of the results of this disruption. There have been some attempts at interference before, but now the lines have been so altered that some of them are beginning to overlap. Histories and futures are merging. Fantastic machines are appearing to primitive tribes. Races of creatures that died out ages ago are resurfacing. This Withering of time must be stopped! We might slow time down or stop it for a while, or even sidestep it a bit - this will shatter it!"

The green dragon, who called himself Itharius, spoke next. "Human, in your world dragons are but dumb animals, little more than lizards that can breathe flame. Yet here, we are protectors of the world, charged with safekeeping the land and all who dwell within. We of the Green Dragonflight revere all of nature, both in its beautiful splendor and in its savage cruelty. Nature bears neither good will nor ill; it simply continues. There has been war, and strife, and corruption, and each time we have fought with our lives to protect it against all enemies. But this is different. Here, there is no enemy to invade us, no destruction to prevent, no corruption to reverse. This is a slow end to all we hold dear - all that exists, in this universe and in all others."

Harry was completely lost. He had no clue why he was here, or how these intelligent dragons had known who he was, or how they had summoned him, but he was not in a position to say anything. But he had had enough. "Please, I don't mean to be rude, but what does this have to do with me?" he begged.

Alexstrasza the dragon disappeared, and in her place appeared Alexstrasza the elf. "You are here because you are the only one who can save us."

"Years ago, we, along with another of the short-lived races, banded together to defeat our brother, Neltharion, who had gone mad. It does seem to be a particular vulnerability we share, does it not? Yet if you only knew the burden placed upon us, the tremendous strain we suffer constantly, you might understand."

"This defeat came at a heavy cost. We each gave a portion of our essences to aid in the battle, and the toll exacted was our immortality. No longer are we ageless; we are as frail and fragile as any of the short-lived races."

Harry was puzzled. "Short-lived races? What do you mean?"

"When one does not age, one does not measure the length of one's life. There are several races that live in Azeroth, each with lives as short as a breath of wind, and it is only through these others that you will be able to save our world," explained Alexstrasza.

"But how is magic involved? Not even all the wizards in the world put together could destroy the whole world. Put a dent in it, maybe, but we'd still have a world left. How could this be happening?" asked Harry.

Alexstrasza looked at the other dragons, and for the first time, Harry thought he could detect a look of worry on the dragon's face. "You are right, Harry Potter. Even had Malygos succeeded in destroying all magic-users in the world, it would have only affected our world. But the Bronze Dragons have been noticing that in certain timelines, there is a darkness that follows them from portal to portal. It is...a power nearly beyond our ken. You would not be familiar with them, but we suspect that the Old Gods may be involved. Corruption follows wherever they roam."

Harry was definitely disturbed, not in the least because he didn't have a choice; without the dragons he had no idea how he was going to get home. He also had no clue who the Old Gods were, but they definitely sounded unfriendly. And he was hungry; he had missed lunch, and he didn't know how often dragons had to eat.

"What do you need from me?" asked Harry shortly.

Alexstrasza sighed. "You, among all humans, possess the most magic we have ever encountered, and that is no mean feat. But the twelve short-lived races must be united. Each of them possesses an aspect of humanness, something that sets them apart from the others. It is not physical appearance or personality, but something innate, something hidden. You must discover what these aspects are, and bring a token of what they represent."

Harry was absolutely perplexed. "Why can't you do it?"

Chromie spoke up. "If a gift is required, it isn't a gift - it's payment, and for someone to give payment to a dragon means a dragon would be in debt, and this is a violation of the laws of our world. It is not allowed. The tokens must be freely given, Harry, or else the magic will not be potent enough to stop the Withering. The tokens will represent the talents that all the races possess - a small part of each of them, including humans. Bringing them together is the only way to get the world to repair itself. When you have gathered the twelve tokens, we'll each cast our spells over them. Hopefully that will be enough to stop the Withering."

Alexstrasza resumed speaking. "This is your charge, Harry Potter. Bring me twelve items of the essence of Azeroth. Your reward will be the continued existence of everything and everyone. The fate of the world depends on it! You must not fail your quest!"

Harry looked, bemused, at the elf; she had implored him so desperately that he could almost see the exclamation point at the end of her sentence floating above her head. He did not have a choice, though, not if he wanted to return home. He sighed.

"I accept."


	3. In Which Harry Enters A City

After an exhausting afternoon spent learning the history of the world of Azeroth in bits and pieces, Harry felt drained. It was dark, and though the night sky was crystal clear and the stars sparkled like gemstones, none of the constellations were the same, and he felt alone. He wondered what Ginny was doing; probably going out of her mind with worry.

"Harry," called Alexstrasza softly, after what must have been the tenth lesson about the Sundering and the First War; after a while, most of it had run together, and Harry had a passing familiarity with the various races of Azeroth. "It is late in the day; you require a repast and rest. Perhaps it would be best if you were to retire for the evening? I believe nothing more can be gained today. You may begin your quest in earnest in the morning."

Harry nodded and yawned; it had been a very long day, and sleep was sounding better and better. He looked around, rather stupidly, before realizing that he was still at the top of Wyrmrest Tower, and that he had nowhere to lie down.

"Do not worry, Harry Potter. The particulars will be arranged," She reared her head back and screamed, though it came out as a dragon's roar. Instantly, a small red drake, easily the size of a horse, appeared, flapping its wings and hovering in place.

"Take him to Dalaran. I will arrive there shortly." The drake whuffed in affirmation, approached Harry, and lowered itself to the ground, beckoning Harry with its head. Harry supposed he was supposed to ride it, but with no saddle or reins or anything to hold it, he was nervous. He slowly mounted the drake, which took off with a tremendous whoosh, and Harry was soaring through the cold night sky.

It was almost like riding Buckbeak, if Buckbeak were covered with smooth scales instead of fur and feathers, and were twice his regular size. The drake flew with grace and ease, over the frozen wastes and what seemed to be a river winding through a forest. Harry soon saw the top of a large domed mountain. Perhaps the city was on the other side of it; Harry certainly hoped so, as he was getting more and more tired by the minute.

A bright glint of light appeared at the top of the domed mountain, and Harry was shocked. The dome of the mountain -was- the city, and there was nothing underneath it - no mountain, no supports, nothing. The city was floating!

Harry was amazed. As the drake began its descent towards the city, Harry could make out a number of thin, tapering towers springing up from the oddly patterned stone pavement like trees. The drake disembarked on what seemed to be a regular landing pad. Harry swung his legs off the red dragon, who apparantly did not enjoy having human passengers and instantly took off, clearly annoyed. Harry took a moment to survey the city, but before he could do much more than that, Alexstrasa appeared behind him.

"Come, Harry. Lodging awaits you at the Hero's Welcome inn," she said, leading him down a short covered ramp encircling a tower.

Harry was exhausted, but the sheer number of things happening in the city kept him awake and interested. Shops still bustled with business: tailors and leatherworkers showed some truly impressive-looking robes and boots. A large set of steps led up to a building marked "Dalaran Counting House", which he took to mean a sort of bank. A beautiful fountain gurgled and splashed, and Harry thought he could make out a number of glittering coins at the bottom.

A sign above Harry read "A Hero's Welcome", and Alexstrasza paused; even in her current form, she was much too tall to fit through the human-sized doorway. "This is where I must take my leave of you. Go inside and speak with the innkeeper, Isirami. Tell her 'The red drake seeks peace'. She will understand and will offer you quarter."

She lowered her voice before continuing. "Rest well, Harry, for tomorrow you will be carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. Remain vigilant; your task is an unenviable one. Know that all of the dragonflights stand with you," she said quietly.

Harry was only slightly reassured, but he appreciated it all the same. He bid Alexstrasza good night and did as she had requested, and after a delicious meal, he was shown an immensely luxurious room, with an enormous bed covered in soft, dreamy silk and satin sheets. Yawning, he climbed wearily into bed, and though he could not help but worry about Ginny, wonder how on earth he was supposed to save all of reality, and dread the coming day, he soon fell fast asleep.


	4. In Which Harry Meets An Orc

Harry awoke suddenly, as if an alarm had been set off inside him. The events of the previous day came rushing back to him, and he sighed. He yawned and put his feet on the floor, still groggy. In his room, a beautiful blue robe had been laid upon a chair, along with a travelling sack and a small amount of gold coins (Harry was relieved to find them tiny and compact compared to the enormous Galleons he knew) and after availing himself of the inn's facilites, Harry departed his room. Alexstrasza had told him to seek out Rhonin, friend to the dragons and ruler of the Kirin Tor, the council of mages that presided over Dalaran. The innkeeper kindly directed Harry to the tallest spire in Dalaran, but he had barely set foot outside the Hero's Rest before a burly, green-skinned orc making his way through the city streets nearly ran Harry over.

Harry was less than pleased. He had never seen an orc, much less met one, but Alexstrasza had told him that they considered humans mortal enemies. He also knew that Dalaran was a sanctuary, where factions were not permitted to harm one another, but that did not stop him from feeling angry.

"Throm ka!" snarled the orc and drawing a sword. "Watch where you're going, human!"

"Sorry," muttered Harry, not at all sorry; the way he saw it, the orc owed -him- an apology.

"Hmph," growled the orc. "Next time I won't be so merciful. You're lucky I'm in such a forgiving mood today."

_This is forgiving?_ thought Harry. _I'd hate to see him in a bad mood._

The orc grunted and sheathed his sword. "Still. Perhaps I was a bit...careless. But no harm, no foul."

"Right," said Harry. He made to continue on the street, but the orc clapped him on the shoulder. "Come, human. The Ledgerdemain Lounge has some of the finest spirits in Northrend, and it's a place where we can both relax without worrying about guards or spies. I'll buy a round and we can share battle stories. I don't take no for an answer."

Harry didn't particularly feel like having a drink that early in the morning, but the orc looked like he could pick Harry up and drag him wherever he wanted. Reluctantly, Harry nodded. The orc laughed, a low, hearty guffaw. "I thought you'd see it that way."

* * *

><p>Harry had to admit, the pints of mulled cider were delicious, and he was relaxed and starting to enjoy himself. He was careful not to divulge where he had come from or his true mission, but Negragh, as the orc was called, didn't press him for the details of his stories, only the highlights.<p>

"I tell ya, human, there ain't much more to life than this," said Negragh, after Harry had lost count of the number of tankards of ale the orc had downed. "I'm a free spirit, yanno? I take whatever work I can get, and I get all the loot and coin I can carry."

"So...you're a mercenary," said Harry. He was wondering how much longer the orc was going to demand his attention; his mission was paramount.

Negragh nodded. "I tried bein' a respectable member of society once. Used to be a banker. Liked bein' around all that money; didn't like how none of it was mine. So I cut out and been wandering the lands ever since."

"Don't you ever get lonely?" asked Harry, only slightly interested.

The orc pondered for a moment. "Well, now. Sometimes I do go for days without seeing another orc. I...suppose it might be nice to have a companion to warm my camp with. She'd have to be awfully tough, though. My age, too. I got a nice little bit of money saved up; one of these days I'm going to retire, and I'll want to settle down and have a family then."

Harry absent-mindedly stirred his drink, not really caring about Negragh's love life, or lack thereof. "Do you miss being around other orcs?" asked Harry vaguely.

Negragh drained the last of his mug and banged it down on the table. "Of course! Wish there were more of us out there, living off the land, surviving on our wits, just us against the wilds. Nothing like it, human, nothing like it. Every swing of the blade, every crush of the hammer, every arrow in a bow brings us all together as brothers and sisters. We're tied together through our weapons."

The orc surveyed Harry. "Do you know that our children are taught to fight as soon as they can hold a weapon? It ain't because we're savagesl, human. Strength and honor define orcs. We don't go looking for fights; we go looking for honor, and the fights come to us. Lot of humans don't realize how important that is, even to them, and that's why there's so many petty squabbles everywhere. Me, I don't get involved in all that. Out in the wilderness, an orc lives by his blade or he dies by it." He reached in his travelsack and removed a small handaxe, suitable for a small teenager or a large child.

"I got this for my first-born right here," beamed Negragh. Harry inspected the axe. It was delicately crafted, with a razor-sharp stone blade and a dark wooden handle lashed around the blade with vine.

"That's very- very nice," offered Harry. "Did you make it?"

"Me? No way. I'm not that good with my hands. I picked this up off some poor troll I found frozen to death in a snowdrift. Fella didn't need it anymore, so I gave him a few coins and took it. Didn't want his spirit comin' after me, hauntin' me for years. Trolls will be trolls."

Harry wondered at the orc's words. The weapon was a symbol of orc brotherhood and strength; pretty much any weapon would be. He cleared his throat.

"What would you take in exchange for that?"

The orc waved his hand, dismissing Harry. "Ah, you can have it. I can always get another one. 'Slong as I got Thalla, I'm okay."

"Thalla?"

The orc nodded. "You met her already." He patted his side where his sword hilt was hanging down. "I'd die before I let anything happen to her."

Negrugh slid the handaxe across the table to Harry, who took it gingerly. It felt light in his hand, but it seemed to be balanced well. _This could be exactly what I need_, thought Harry. He nodded in appreciation and put the handaxe in his pack. He was about to thank Negragh when he noticed that the orc was slumped over, snoring loudly on the table; evidently twenty-two was his limit. He quietly crept out of the bar, not wanting to be stuck with an enormous tab; he didn't think the small amount of coins he had on hand would cover unnecessary tavern visits. Inhaling deeply, he strode down the street and approached the tall tower where the Kirin Tor operated.


	5. In Which Harry Listens To A Lot Of Words

It was not difficult to find, and he made his way up the rather long flight of stairs to the open chamber. A tall, sturdy man, with long red hair in a braid and a neatly trimmed beard, apprised him.

"Well met," he said in a voice that reminded Harry of Professor Lupin. "I am Rhonin, Arch-Mage of the Kirin Tor. What do you seek?"

Harry cleared his throat. "I'm Harry Potter. I was sent by...by a friend. She said you could help me."

Rhonin continued to look Harry over. "Who was this friend, Harry Potter, and with what do you require aid?"

"It was...Alexstrasza. I can't really explain, but I'm on a sort of quest. I need to...well, I-I can't even tell you what I need," he exhaled. Explaining what he needed without giving away his mission was going to be harder than he thought.

Rhonin cocked an eyebrow. "The Dragon Queen sent you? Very unusual. Perhaps you can give a clue, or a hint, as to your request?"

Harry sighed. "It...alright, look. Maybe you can answer a couple of questions for me."

Rhonin nodded. "We do enjoy the pursuit of knowledge. What would you know?"

Harry pondered for a moment, trying to word his request carefully. "The twelve races. What can you tell me about them?"

The archmage was nonplussed. "That is a bit vague, Harry. What about them?"

"What I mean is - if you had to boil them down into a single word, what would you say about them?"

Rhonin blinked. "There are any number of words we could use to describe each of them, and many words could apply to several of the races. Moreover, words are all relative. For instance, we might call both the gnomes and the goblins 'short' and the draenei and tauren 'tall'. But if you were to ask a draenei, they would tell you that they are a normal height and everyone else is simply short. It is all a matter of perspective."

Harry put his hand to his forehead. "Alright, let's try this way. If something were to happen, say, a-a disease or a meteor or something that wiped out everything, what would each of the races be known for? What would they leave behind as a record?"

Rhonin smiled. "Ahh, yes. Their legacy. Now you are asking the proper questions, Harry. This is good. Of the Horde I can tell you little, but as for the Alliance, I will divulge what I know."

"It is no secret that humans value leadership. In times of trial and in times of prosperity, it is our leaders that define us, that mold us and shape us and determine in what direction humanity is heading. Our world is constantly in flux, and without strong, willful leaders, we will be doomed to stagnation and anarchy. Leaders are made, not born, Harry."

"The dwarves are the first to enter a battle and the last to leave. If a dwarf says he's going to do something, he means it. Dwarves are not given to guile or deceit. Misdirection, perhaps, but they do not enjoy lying, even when it is necessary. They are as resolute as the stones they love."

"Our friends the gnomes are driven by curiosity. We owe much of our survival in the Second War to their wondrous machines, and for them we will always be grateful. They are supremely intelligent, moreso than anyone, yet they do not look down upon us because of it. But they are not very diligent. Oftentimes they are so intent on disassembling a machine to see how it works that they forget that the machine will not reassemble itself."

"The night elves put much stock in the natural world. They are cousins to the high elves," said Rhonin, putting an arm around a pretty blonde elf, "but they reject the arcane. They believe it is their station, their reason for being placed upon Azeroth, to preserve the flow of nature. They take it upon themselves to ensure that the cycle of life is not disturbed, healing the wounded and culling the excess."

"The draenei have been hunted for ages. Dozens of lifetimes to you or I, Harry, fleeing from one world to another, and still they refuse to lose hope. They believe, as we do, that the Light offers redemption to all who seek it. They are extremely adaptable to new situations, and there is little of which they are incapable."

Harry nodded, taking it all in. "What about the Worgen?" Harry was particularly interested in them and how they fit in with nor-_no,_ Harry reminded himself, _not 'normal'; just not cursed_. They reminded him of Professor Lupin's and Bill Weasley, and he thought about Ginny again.

Rhonin sighed. "Our cursed brothers and sisters have much in common with the night elves - a certain affinity for trees, as it were. Still, they are struggling to control a very painful and difficult affliction. As a gryphon is master of two domains, land and sky, so too are the Worgen masters of the savage and the civilized. Balance and harmony, Harry. One cannot have the Light without darkness, nor day without night, and the Worgen are living proof of this."

"So...let me get this straight. Leadership, resolve, curiosity, station, adapability, balance," repeated Harry.

Rhonin tilted his head. "I suppose that is it, in essence."

Harry nodded. "What if there were some sort of...item, that represented each of these things? What might they be?"

Rhonin studied Harry for a moment before answering. "I...cannot speak for the other races. For us, though, Harry, a leader, as a king or a general, wears a key at all times. All times. It is symbolic of the hardships they have faced in rising to their position. A king keeps the key to his kingdom, and a general keeps the key to victory. A key can unlock many things, good or bad. It can keep a precious item safe from thieves, or it can keep a good man prisoner."

Harry thought his head would soon fall off from the constant nodding. "You're the leader of this city, aren't you? Do you have a key?"

Rhonin's eyes narrowed. "Indeed, I do. Why do you ask?"

"Is there any way I could...see it?"

Rhonin took a step back. "I am not comfortable with this question, Harry. I must insist that you come forth with your reasoning before I agree."

Harry sighed, somewhat exasperated. "Alexstrasza told me I couldn't tell anyone. I-I need a key. It has to be the key of a leader."

Rhonin gazed at Harry intently. "I can, perhaps, create a duplicate for you. But there is something you most do first."

"What?" said Harry excitedly.

"You must defeat me in a duel."


	6. In Which Harry Has A Duel

Harry had been in plenty of duels before, but he still felt a twinge of anxiety when Rhonin led him back to the landing site on the east side of Dalaran. The rest of the city was protected by a magical bubble that prevented hostilities (though the guards were still empowered to remove troublemakers), but by necessity the landing zone had to remain unimpeded. "You have a magical aura about you, Harry, although it is different from any I've ever seen. We shall see how versed you are in the arcane," challenged Rhonin.

Harry said nothing, but watched as the archmage conjured a flagpole with a blue and gold standard bearing the crest of a lion from nowhere.

"Obey the rules of the duel, Harry Potter, or forfeit and fail," announced Rhonin. "You must stay within thirty yards of the flag at all times. You must duel to yield, and you must accept a yield. On the count of three, we begin. Prepare yourself!"

"One!" The flag glowed once. Harry took a deep breath.

"Two!" The flag glowed again. Harry's fingers twitched and he steeled himself.

"Three!" The flag glowed once more. Harry drew his wand, familiar to him like the back of his hand.

Rhonin began moving his arms and hands in strange maneuvers. "_Expelliarmus_!" shouted Harry, but it had no effect; Rhonin had no wand. Suddenly, what looked like a giant arrow made of ice appeared in his hands like an ice cream cone, and Rhonin aimed it at Harry. Harry had no time to think of a counterspell, so he tried to dodge it, but to his surprise, the bolt followed him. He made a feint, but the bolt could not be fooled and Harry was hit.

It stung like a million sharp, frozen knives twisting and digging directly into him, and Harry had to catch his breath; the shock that came with the freezing arrow had been painful. But Harry was determined not to go down on the first hit. Rhonin was preparing the same spell, but just before he finished, Harry yelled, "_Protego_!" Instantly, a bright green shield spread out around of him. Rhonin looked, perplexed at Harry, as his bolt rebounded off Harry's shield - and back onto him. Rhonin winced and grunted as he felt the full force of his own spell.

"_Stupefy_!" shouted Harry, sending a bright red streak to Rhonin, but Rhonin had cast a defensive spell of his own - he had constructed a shield of thick ice around his entire body, making him unable to move, but protecting him from Harry's magic. Harry's spell dissipated harmlessly, and Harry spent the next few seconds wondering how long Rhonin would stay frozen. But the ice surrounding the archmage was melting fast, and Harry had a quick thought

"_Incendio_!" exclaimed Harry. Instantly, a burning stream of fire appeared from Harry's wand, spinning and rotating. Harry cracked the stream of fire like a whip, and it went shooting directly at Rhonin, whose ice shield had all but melted.

With the help of the flaming heat from Harry's spell, Rhonin's spell ended, shattering the large pieces of ice and melting the small ones. Rhonin put a hand up to protect himself from the searing flame, but Harry's spell had completely encircled him like a snake wrapped around its prey; there was no way for Rhonin to move his hands enough to cast another spell without severely burning himself.

"I yield!" shouted Rhonin. Harry, stunned, lowered his wand and cancelled the spell.

Rhonin blinked at Harry. It was a moment before he could speak. "You are...truly incredible, Harry Potter. I have never before seen such mastery of magic by a mortal. Have you had much training?"

Harry nodded. "I went to school for a few years, yeah."

Rhonin narrowed his eyes. "Then it is as I suspected. You are not of this world."

Harry's eyes widened, and he looked around nervously, but the landing area was thankfully deserted. "How did you-" he began.

Rhonin interrupted. "I began to suspect you were more than you appeared when you said that Alexstrasza had sent you on a quest. For the Dragon Queen herself to be involved must mean that the situation is dire, yet she must have her reasons for secrecy."

Rhonin continued, pacing as he scrutinized Harry. "Your magic far outstrips mine, and I have been studying for a good deal longer than a few years. Some mages are able to withstand my barrage for a period of time, but none have ever bested me, and not so quickly. Your magic is vocal, while mine is primarily somatic. Your wand is not a silly piece of wood that shoots sparks, but a powerful conduit through which you channel your power. Of what is it comprised?" asked Rhonin.

Harry shrugged. "It's made from holly wood, and the feather of a phoenix ."

Rhonin frowned. "A phoenix? Is there no other ingredient? No magical dust or essence imbued within?"

Harry shook his head. "I should know, I've had this wand since I was eleven."

Rhonin's eyebrows were raised. "Eleven? Yet you can scarcely be twenty! Not even ten years of magical education!" he said, amazed.

"Twenty-two, actually," corrected Harry. "I went to school for...well, it was supposed to be seven years, but it ended up being six and - it-it's a long story."

Rhonin was still in awe. "It takes students here years to begin to cast the simplest of cantrips. Many of them withdraw due to the enormous strain; it is a long and arduous undertaking."

"But I digress. Clearly, Alexstrasza knows what she is doing, and so I will give you what it is you seek." He reached into his robe and pulled out a tiny golden key. He made a quick motion, and within seconds another key had appeared in his hand, identical to the first. He approached Harry, who took the key from Rhonin and placed it delicately in his travelsack. _Two down, ten to go, and it's not even lunchtime yet_, thought Harry. _I might be done with this by dinnertime._

"I will grant you a small boon, Harry. Under normal circumstances, the Kirin Tor would charge a levy on the creation of a portal. It is unwise to travel this way often, for it strains the very fabric of magic. But I will speed you on your way." Rhonin concentrated for a moment, and suddenly a strange sort of orb appeared in front of them. It was an oblong, swirling mass of light, revealing a portrait of shallow blue pool inside an enormous cavern.

"Travel to Ironforge in Dun Morogh. Seek the dwarves and gnomes first, Harry. They have been our friends and allies time out of mind, and they will certainly aid you on your journey."

Harry was a little hesitant. The orb certainly looked stable enough, but it was the strangest thing - no matter what direction he approached it from, the portrait followed him, showing him the same view.

"Enter the portal, Harry. And good luck on your quest," advised Rhonin.

Harry took a deep breath, stepped forward into the portal, and vanished.


	7. In Which Harry Meets Some Gnomes

Harry was not prepared for the abrupt change in his surroundings. At least with Apparition, there was a strong sensation of travelling from one place to another, however uncomfortable it might have been. With the portal Rhonin had created, the transition was instantaneous - one moment he was outside in the sunshine and cool air, the next he was in a dark cave with strange blue lights. There were a number of the strange, short, bigheaded gnomes, highly intelligent and completely different from the gnomes he knew, and one of them, an older male with wild grey hair and a dazzling mustache that reached to his sideburns, noticed Harry.

"Salutations!" said the gnome. "First time in Ironforge?"

"Err...yeah," said Harry, still a bit confused. "Usually I just...er...walk."

"Walk?" asked the gnome, confused. "From where?"

"From...the city. The big city," said Harry quickly.

"Stormwind? You can't walk that far! You'd never survive the Burning Steppes," prodded the gnome. "Are you perhaps attempting to make a joke?"

"No, no, no," said Harry, a little too quickly. "I'd never do that. I, just, erm...wanted to see the sights," he offered.

The gnome looked at Harry suspiciously. "The sights. I see. Which sights might those be?"

Harry thought fast. He was in a city called Ironforge; surely there was a forge somewhere? "Oh, erm..

the...forge?"

The gnome eyed Harry a moment longer, then relaxed. "Well, I can hardly fault you for that. Our Great Forge is a wonder of the modern world and attracts tourists from a variety of locales, from Westfall to Darnassus. I'm certain the dwarves working the forge can tell you more of its history. Exit through these doors and continue straight along the path; it will be directly in front of you in the center of the city. You cannot miss it."

Harry thanked the gnome for his directions, not really understanding why he was going to the forge. As he walked, he began to notice the stifling amount of heat and the nearly blinding orange glow emanating from somewhere in the city, and the more he walked the hotter it got. He was soon within sight of the enormous forge; it looked like it had been made for - or by - giants.

He stood in awe for a moment; the thing really was impressive, but it made him hot and sweaty, and his throat was beginning to get dry. "Excuse me, sir, but where could I get something to drink?" he asked a burly looking dwarf guard.

The guard jerked a thumb over his shoulder. "Right side o' tha Throne Room, down tha hallway. Come out and go 'cross th' bridge; ye'll see tha sign fer the Stonefire Tavern. Best ale in Ironforge, but mind yeh take it easy; what's good fer a dwaf's usually a mite strong fer a human. But don't let tha' stop yeh!"

Harry thanked the guard and followed the directions, and soon he was sitting in a thankfully much cooler tavern, nursing a deliciously chilled tankard of brindleberry wine. A commotion behind him made him turn around. A stocky and pretty female dwarf was having a heated discussion with a gnome with a startling green mohawk; evidently gnomes pushed the envelope when it came to hairstyles. Harry tried not to eavesdrop, but he was unfortunately just a little too close to move without attracting attention to himself, and then they would know he'd been eavesdropping.

"...this time ta' speak with the emissary of tha' League of Arathor, and ye go an' do somethin' brash like that! Ought ter leave ya here and let ya find yer own way home, I ought!" said the dwarf.

The gnome frowned. "As long as the Horde are prevented from taking the basin for their own purposes, I see no reason why the summoning of powerful entities to turn against our enemies should be frowned upon. Indeed, many of Ironforge's soldiers would not still be alive if it were not for our companions."

"Yer fancy words and high-falutin' ways can nae disguise tha fact that yeh traffick wi' demons, Gibble. Demon magic corrupts all it touches, and yeh're a fool if yeh think other," growled the dwarf, jabbing the air with her thick finger.

Gbble crossed his arms. "Fel energy only corrupts the weak-willed, Sharla. Even those with the most basic understanding of arcane matters can see that." With that, the gnome turned toward Harry, who had been pretending to be very interested in the smooth stonework of the walls of the tavern. "You there, human!"

Harry glanced around; the tavern held a number of dwarves and another gnome or two, but he was the only human in sight._ Figures_, he thought.

"Err, me?" he asked, although he already knew the answer.

"Yes. My compatriot and I are having a debate on a particular matter concerning magical beings, and you are wearing the apparel of a mage. Tell me, is fel energy inherently entropic, or does it corrupt only those without the force of will not to succumb to its overwhelming power?"

It took Harry a moment to wrap his head around what had sounded like nonsense. "Erm, well...I don't really have any experience with that sort of thing. I'm...erm...still learning."

"Of course you are, human! All mages continually strive to learn new things every day. But I was concerned with the more pragmatic details of summoning otherworldly beings. You call them demons; I call them interesting specimens. I-"

Sharla the dwarf interrupted. "Yeh play wi' fire, my friend, and come a time I'll not be around ter exorcise a demon yeh thought yeh could control."

Gibble was not to be deterred. "Let's have a test, then. Show me which is the more viable option when it comes to fel corruption - your righteousness and faith in the Light, or simple arcane maneuvers. If you can convince me that you are better prepared to handle the immense strain of repelling invaders, then I will permanently cease the summoning of demons and return to my inventions to turn the tide of war. If, however, our young friend here can demonstrate how even the most unskilled neophyte can banish a demon with little thought, then you must allow me to continue in my efforts against the Horde by any means necessary," said the gnome.

Harry looked nervously between the two, not really knowing who they were or what the gnome was talking about. "Er...what do you mean, banish a demon?"

"It's simple, really," offered Gibble. "I will teach you the appropriate steps, and then we will have a contest. I'll summon five demons for each of you, one at a time, and whoever can banish all their demons first will be declared the victor. If you win, you may request a prize, and I will do my best to procure it. Does this suit you...er...what was your name?"

"Harry Potter," said Harry, warily. Summoning demons? How was that even possible? Weren't people who did that evil by nature? If Voldemort had ever thought it possible...he shuddered to think. But he needed something from both the gnomes and the dwarves, and if he had to banish a demon to do it, and if it got him another step closer to going home, he would. "I...err...yeah, alright."

"Splendid! We will begin at once. Follow me to the Forlorn Cavern," said Gibble, scooting his chair back from his table, Sharla copying him.

Harry sighed and gulped the last of his wine. _This is going to be fun_, he thought unhappily as he exited the tavern. _Some strange world I didn't even know existed and these weird little people are talking about summoning demons. Not how I'd planned on spending this weekend._

Yet had he been any less preoccupied, he might have noticed the pair of slinking eyes following him. But he was focused on his mission, and so the unseen watcher remained undetected. She slunk in the shadows, watching him, and when there was enough distance between them, she ducked down an alley, removed a dull crystal, and whispered to it.

"Target acquired. Permission to terminate?"

The crystal glowed once, a dim green. It vanished silently, and the watcher crept back out of the alley, eyeing Harry. She stayed hidden, and started to close the distance between her and Harry, when a sudden *_crack_* came from nowhere, making direct contact with her head. She slumped like a sandbag, and a hulking dwarf with a barrel chest and piercing eyes stood over her, knuckles bared.

"There'll be none o' that on MY watch, missy. Thief Catcher Farmountain takes his job seriously." He picked up the slender woman, threw her over his shoulder, and marched off with her.

"We'll get yeh to talk," he said, laughing. "We always do."


	8. In Which Harry Has A Contest

Harry followed Gibble and Sharla through the Mystic Ward where he had first entered the city, but instead of taking the main path directly to the Great Forge, they entered a smaller hallway that opened into a dark and foreboding cavern. A few houses and a store or two dotted the walls, but they were secluded and dim, and did not appear to be welcoming strangers. A quiet and murky pond rippled and splashed softly; Harry was not at all certain that he didn't see a fish or two. A svelte, sharp-faced gnome with green pigtails was leaning against a shop wall and was casually picking her fingernails with a seriously dangerous-looking dagger. Figures appeared from the shadows and disappeared moments later. Harry was distinctly reminded of Knockturn Alley.

"I dinna like this place, Gibble," said Sharla quietly. "Any place without light is nae a place to be trusted. Ye can't tell where anyone is, they're always skulkin' about in the shadows."

"The shadows are a necessity, Sharla. Otherwise, how would you know what the Light even was? This way," said Gibble. He led Sharla and Harry to the bank of the pond and turned to face them.

"This is where we will practice. Sharla, to my right; Harry, to my left. I will summon two demons at a time, and each of you will attempt to banish them. Whoever banishes their demon first will be given a point. First to three points will be declared winner. Are there any questions?"

Harry cleared his throat. "Er, yeah. How exactly does one banish a demon? For that matter, how do you -summon- one?"

Gibble shook his head. "The summoning of demons is a closely guarded secret shared only with those who have proven themselves worthy of the knowledge. But banishing a demon is an effortless task. You must only direct enough arcane energy to entrap it long enough for you to inscribe a simple rune," said the gnome, drawing an odd sort of marking in the air with his finger; a yellow sigil resembling the letter E remained floating for a second before disappearing, "recite its name, and order it to return to its home. You must not waver in your concentration, though, for once summoned a demon will attempt to destroy all in its path."

Harry frowned. "They won't...-kill- me, will they?"

Gibble laughed. "Certainly not! Not that they won't try, of course. But fear not, young Harry. I am an expert at summoning demons, and they will be under my complete control. And should the demon prove too much for your abilities, Sharla is an excellent healer. I may not agree with her methodology, but I cannot argue with her results."

Harry looked at the dwarf. She was sturdily built, with short, cropped light brown hair. She carried a heavy-looking mace and a shiny metal shield, which bore the same blue crest with a gold lion that Rhonin had summoned; this was evidently the insignia of the Alliance. She smiled wanely at Harry. "I may not be as devoted to tha healin' arts as me da were, but I can still keep yeh from bleedin' out."

Gibble cleared his throat. "Are you prepared?"

Sharla and Harry both nodded, and Gibble began the summoning ritual. Moments later, two ugly little imps appeared from nowhere, with puffs of smoke and a powerful smell of sulphur. Harry was shocked.

"Pagzip! Gibtap! Defeat these interlopers!" commanded Gibble. "At once!"

The second of the little imps muttered something that sounded suspiciously like a curse, and it focused on Harry. Its skin was pitch black but its eyes were a bright but dirty yellow, and Harry disliked the thing almost immediately. A small flame appeared in its hands, and it seemed to be concentrating, and as it did so, the ball of fire grew larger. Harry was not about to let the ugly little imp get the bettter of him, and he drew his wand. He tried to recreate the funny rune Gibble had shown him, but before he could finish it, the imp finished his spell and an enormous fireball was headed straight for his head.

Harry quickly changed tack and had just barely finished his Shield Spell when the fireball bounced off it and ricocheted harmlessly into the pond, fizzling. The little imp was very fast; already it was preparing another fireball.

"_Impedimenta_!" shouted Harry. Immediately the little imp stopped castng; it had been hit. "Hey, what'd ya do? Can't move! Lemme go!" it yelled in a tiny, angry voice. Harry concentrated and finished inscribing the rune, which hung in the air for a moment. "Gibtap, I order you to go home!"

"Gah!" it shouted as it disappeared. Harry smiled and looked at Sharla, but she was already watching him.

"The first round goes to Sharla! A single exorcism spell was all it took!" shouted Gibble. "Harry, you must act faster! Sharla is a competent paladin and her spells are quite potent."

Harry grimaced; he was going to have to get it together before Sharla won another point. "Round two will begin momentarily!" shouted Gibble.

Sharla eyed Harry. "Dinnae be nervous, Harry. Gibble and me've been neighbors and friends time outta mind, we spar like this all tha time. Usually we do it outside tha front gates, where the guards don't-"

But what exactly the guards didn't do, Harry never knew, because two large, dark blue beings, seemingly made from ink and smoke, had appeared from nowhere. They had two arms and no legs, and seemed to float above the ground like a cloud of fog.

"_Release_..." whispered one, in a dry, scratchy voice that gave Harry the chills.  
>"<em>Return<em>..." whispered the other in the same voice.

"Voidwalkers, Harry. Constantly shifting out of phase with this plane and their own," said Gibble. "Phanzaz and Grimgorg! Attack!"

Harry lost no time in casting his Impediment spell at the great blue demon, Phanzaz, approaching him, but to his great surprise, it passed directly through the demon. It neared him, and reached back a dark, clawed hand. Harry, expecting the worst, braced himself for an impact, but the voidwalker's hand went through him like a ghost's. Harry was suddenly overwhelmed by a rush of horrible memories. His mother screaming...the dementors closing in, hundreds of them swirling around the lakeside...Cedric dying, lifeless, staring at nothing...Sirius, disappearing through the veil...Dobby, bleeding and limp...Dumbledore, dead on the ground...all flooded his mind, and he felt a horrible, wracking pain envelop his whole body. The voidwalker was tormenting him, and he was powerless to stop it.

_Succumb_...echoed the whisper in his mind. _Give in to your despair_..._you have failed_..._you are doomed_..._you will never return home_...

Suddenly, the image of Ginny popped into his mind, and Harry knew exactly what he had to do. With a grunt of desperation, he aimed his wand somewhere ahead of him and yelled, "_Expecto Patronum_!"

A gleaming white stag erupted from the end of his wand, the same one he had seen countless times before, and charged the voidwalker, which disappeared with a *poof* and a silhoutte.

Gibble was staring, stunned, "That... that was incredible! I've never seen magic like that. I have some colleagues in Stormwind who would be most interested in such a potent spell. And look! You have won this round!"

Harry glanced over at Sharla, who had just raised her arms in triumph as her own voidwalker popped out of existence. Sharla furrowed her brow at Harry, but remained silent. Harry was glad to win the point; he had been afraid his ignorance of this world's magic would prevent him from winning the contest.

"The next round will feature succubi, those most devious temptresses! They care not if you prefer the company of males or females, they will penetrate to your basest desires!" called Gibble animatedly. "Vilma! Saleri! Show yourselves!"

A few moments passed, and Harry didn't see anything. He wondered what was taking the little gnome so long to summon them, only to discover that Gibble was nowhere in sight. For that matter, neither was Sharla. He quickly spun in place to discover that he was completely alone.

"Harry," called a sultry voice. "What are you doing, Harry?"

He turned in the direction of the voice, expecting to see some sort of demon, but to his astonishment, it was Ginny, although something was not quite right. She wasn't wearing her traditional witch robe, or even a suitable Muggle outfit. She was wearing a leather suit made of what appeared to be half a cow; at least, it covered only half her body. She was approaching him slowly, swaying her hips in a way she'd never done before, and Harry was flabbergasted.

"Ginny!" he exclaimed, thrilled. "How did you get here? What are you doing here?"

Ginny pouted, lowered her head and raised her eyes, fluttering her eyelashes demurely. "I was very worried about you, Harry. You've been gone so long and I've missed you so, so much." She danced around him, leaned over to him, and blew a kiss in his ear; it tingled and titillated him, and while the sensation was not altogether unpleasant, it was quite unlike Ginny. Usually, Ginny was passionate and fierce when it came to her affection; this was completely out of character. She was still dancing around him, flirting and swinging her hips. Harry was feeling very strange.

"Err...Ginny," he began, but she closed in and put a finger over his lips, shushing him.

"No talking now, Harry. We're all alone. Take me! Take me now!" She thrust herself towards him, and she felt so warm and soft. She was right; there was nobody around, and he had missed her over the past...wait, that wasn't right. Technically, he'd only been gone about a day.

Harry sensed something was wrong. "This isn't like you, Ginny. I haven't been gone that long."

Ginny pouted again. "It feels like it's been ages, Harry. A woman has needs, and I need you to-" and she began describing to Harry a number of acts that would certainly make her mother blush.

Harry frowned and stepped away. "Now I know this isn't you. You would never have told me you wanted all that. You would have shown me."

Ginny reached behind her back and pulled out a mean-looking whip. "I'm not taking no for an answer, Harry. Take me, NOW!" She punctuated the last word with a vicious-sounding -snap-, cracking her whip in the air dangerously close to Harry's ear.

Harry was a little hesistant. On one hand, whoever it was looked, sounded, and smelled just like Ginny, his Ginny, his wife, the future mother of his children. On the other hand...it _wasn't_ her, it couldn't be her. She wasn't a tease and she certainly wasn't this forward. He remembered the first time they had made love; Ginny's lovemaking was beautiful and left him breathless. The memory filled him with happiness, and he drew his wand.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" he shouted, and the familiar shape of his Patronus formed. It looked around, confused. Clearly it couldn't bring itself to attack Ginny, even if she was Not-Ginny; the stag gave him a piercing look before dissipating in a puff of white smoke.

_This is ridiculous_, thought Harry - and an old lesson from school sprang into his head. Suddenly he knew the answer to his dilemma. He pointed his wand, while Not-Ginny hissed and raised her whip to snap it again. But before she could finish, Harry shouted, "_Riddikulus!"_

The whip turned into a stream of long, multi-colored, silly-looking balloons. Not-Ginny was momentarily stunned; her weapon had turned into rubber. Harry grinned and cast the spell again. Not-Ginny's seductive leather outfit was gone, replaced with a shirt with a number of large, colorful dots, an oversized pair of pants held up with ridiculous-looking red suspenders, and enormous red shoes that were easily ten sizes too big. She had on a green, curly wig, a funny-looking hat, large white gloves, and a round red nose, and her face was painted white.  
>Harry could not help himself; his Riddikulus charm had worked perfectly, and he doubled over laughing. Not-Ginny screamed in fury and disappeared. Suddenly, the world around him swirled, and the cavern returned to its previous state.<p>

"Sensational! That was truly a remarkable spell! And you did not even need to inscribe the rune!" shouted Gibble gleefully. "This round is yours!"

Gibble pointed at Sharla, who was looking dazed and embarassed. She was panting; apparantly her battle had not been easy. She was less than thrilled. "I'll get tha next one!" she grunted.

Harry's confidence was building; one more point and he'd win the challenge. But Gibble's smile had disappeared. "The next round..." he said, shaking his head. "I am not entirely certain of your potential to overcome this particular demon, Harry, due to its extraordinary nature. Say the word, and I will recall it and award Sharla the point."

Harry frowned. "I should at least get a chance to try."

Gibble regarded Harry, then acquiesced. "Indeed. Very well, then. Let us begin!"

Moments later, two vicious looking demons, somewhat resembling thick, squat dogs with four legs, no eyes, and a number of tendrils ending in sharp teeth appeared.

"Felhunters, Harry. They are able to consume the magic of others at will, Harry. Your shields will be ineffective; you must discover another means to dispower them. Thoothun! Shaadhon! Go!"

The dog demons began to charge. Harry readied his wand, but before he could complete his spell, he felt an odd sensation, first licking at his feet, then spreading, like a piece of parchment on fire. It started as a tingle; then a prickling, as if his foot had fallen asleep; then a sharp stabbing; then a piercing ache; then a screaming pain. Harry felt as if pieces of his spirit were being wrenched from his body, shattering his essence like a mirror. He reached out to grab at whatever pieces of himself were being taken, but his hand grasped at emptiness, and he doubled over in agony.

"_Expecto...Patronum_," he gritted, but only a wisp of smoke emerged from his wand; he was in entirely too much pain to focus on a happy memory. This was a thousand times worse than anything the Cruciatus Curse could offer, and it was getting worse as the demon got closer. It snarled and charged him.

"_Stupefy_!" he shouted, but when the red jet of light hit the demon, it simply disappeared, and the felhunter continued running at him; it had not felt the spell at all.

"_Riddikulus_!" No effect.

"_Incendio_!" Nothing.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!_ Impedimenta_!_ Petrificus Totalus_! _Levicorpus_! _Sectumsempra_! _Lumos_!" None of Harry's spells were having any effect, and the demon was almost upon him, teeth gleaming and curled lips drooling. Harry tried to run, but the demon was faster, and before he knew what was happening, it had caught up with him, lashing out at his legs with its razor sharp teeth. Harry yelled in excruciating agony; the pain was almost unbearable. The felhunter leapt at him, knocking him down. Bleeding and vulnerable, Harry was running out of options.

"_Incarcerous_!" he yelled, desparately. Incredibly, a series of ropes shot out of the end of his wand and flew at the felhunter. The felhunter tripped over the ropes, falling facefirst on the floor. But as soon as the ropes started to tie themselves around the demon, its multiple tendrils started to gnaw and snap at the rope; this was only slowing it for a moment. Thinking quickly, Harry cast the spell again and again, sending stream after stream of thick ropes flying at the felhunter. The more rope Harry conjured, the slower the demon became; he was tying it up faster than the felhunter could chew through the ropes. Soon, the demon was bound tight and completely covered in a cocoon of rope.

Exhausted, Harry completed the banishing ritual; the ropes fell to the floor and disappeared. He looked up to see Sharla rushing over to him, and he collapsed.

"Ach," she tutted. "Looks like tha wee pup's given yeh a littl' nip! Hold still."

Harry was too fatigued to do anything but lie where he was. He could hear her muttering some sort of spell, but he couldn't make out what she was saying. But as she finished, Harry felt a surge of warmth wash over him like a wave, and felt rather than saw a bright flash of light. He looked down at his leg, which was mending itself as he watched, drawing the blood back into his body and regrowing skin; another moment later and it was as good as new, and though his robe was a bit tattered, his leg had completely healed. Even Madam Pomfrey couldn't heal serious wounds that quickly, and the Healers at St. Mungo's would have been hard pressed to keep up with the dwarf. Sharla held out a gauntleted hand to help him up, and Harry took it gratefully.

"Thanks," he said, breathlessly, as he brushed himself off.

"Don't go thankin' me, Harry. It's me duty as a servant of tha Light to call upon it to provide healin' for those in need," said Sharla.

"What an exciting turn of events!" squealed Gibble. "Harry, your spellwork was amazing, again, but I'm afraid Sharla held the advantage with her weapon!"

"Aye," smiled the dwarf. "Not too many problems can nae be solved wi' a good mace."  
>Harry inwardly groaned; losing that round meant that they were tied, and the next would be the last. He was beginning to lose his appetite for the contest; if the last round was anything to judge the next one by, he was in for a rough time.<p>

"This will be the last round!" said Gibble, wringing his hands in anticipation. "Felguards are some of the most powerful demons known to Azeroth! You will need to muster every ounce of your courage and cunning to repel them! Are you ready?"

Harry exhaled and nodded. Sharla steeled herself and readied her mace; Harry drew his wand. Moments later, three fierce, hulking demons with bulging muscles, dangerous armor, and enormous axes appeared.

Gibble was distressed. "Three? I only summoned Rivinzeras and Krimkorak. Who are you, demon?"

"Your worst nightmare," replied the third in a gravelly voice. It raised its axe, and the last thing Gibble saw was the deadly blade swinging toward him.


	9. In Which Harry Learns Some History

Harry began to cast a Shield Spell on Gibble, but it was no use; as soon as he started his spell, he knew that the demon's axe was carving through the air too fast and that he would never be able to finish it in time. Suddenly, a golden shell formed over Gibble, and the demon's axe bounced off it like rubber. Harry saw Sharla with her arms raised and a bright yellow light pulsing from her hands.  
>"Harry! I can nae hold th' shield much longer!" she yelled. "Get rid o' the demons!"<br>Harry steeled his nerves and turned back to the felguards. The two that Gibble had summoned, Rivinzeras and Krimkorak, were looking at him suspiciously.  
>"That is the human! Destroy the others, but capture him alive!" grunted the unnamed demon.<br>"Too pathetic to fight your own battles, Bruudhun?" sneered one of the demons, although Harry didn't know which one was which.  
>Bruudhun roared in anger. "Ignorant imp!" it yelled. "They knew not my true name, Krimkorak! Now you have given them a weapon!"<br>The other demon said nothing in reply, but placed a well-aimed kick at Bruudhun's chest. He doubled over, snarling, while Rivinzeras laughed cruelly.  
>"Treacherous fool!" shouted Bruudhun. His attention diverted, he furiously threw a devastating left jab at Krimkorak. It landed squarely on the jaw of the other demon with a sickening crunch.<br>Krimkorak swept an armored leg across the ground, tripping Bruudhun - and accidentally hitting Rivinzeras, who stopped laughing.  
>"Flailing whelp! Watch what you're doing!" he growled.<p>Sharla crumpled, overexhausted, as the golden shield around Gibble buckled and collapsed. Fortunately for them, the three felguards were more focused on fighting each other than on their targets, and Harry took advantage of the momentary distraction to spring into action. "Ventus!" he shouted, flicking his wand and aiming not at the demons but the water in the pond. An enormous swirling waterspout sprang up from the lake. It spouted like a whale, and Harry directed it to the arguing demons. They looked up just in time to see a ceiling of water crash down on top of them, knocking them face-first onto the ground and pinning them in place.<p>

"Rivinzeras! Krimkorak! Bra-Bren...", sputtered Harry. "Bruudhun! Return!"  
>Moments later, the water had dissipated and the three demons had disappeared. Gibble stared at Harry, visibly shaken. "I...I do not understand, Harry. A demon cannot be summoned unless its name is known, or it is commanded by a greater demon. I was unfamiliar with the additional demon and I must humbly apologize for the ambush. You have, of course, won the contest, but I fear the prize is not worth the effort involved."<p>

Harry wanted to say something, but a low moan from Sharla brought him to attention. "She's injured. Where can we take her?" asked Harry.  
>Gibble beckoned Harry. "The other paladins in the Mystic Ward will be able to revive her. If they ask, we can say she was injured fighting demons, which will be the truth."<br>Harry sighed, not really having a choice. Wordlessly, he conjured a stretcher and very gently floated Sharla onto it, and followed Gibble down the hall.

The paladins did not ask many questions, and soon Sharla was up and about, a little tired but otherwise healed. She, Harry, and Gibble were on their way to the Deeprun Tram, the fastest way to Stormwind. He had told them, truthfully enough, that a friend of his had opened a portal directly to Ironforge, and that he wasn't sure how to get back to Stormwind. As they walked, Harry had a few questions for them, and wondered whether he might obtain a token or memento that represented themselves.  
>"I'm a sort of...collector, I suppose. This is for an...anthropological survey."<br>Sharla's ears perked up. "Oh, aye? Are yeh interested much in culture an' history, then, Harry?"  
>Harry nodded. "Let's just say it's in my best interests to learn as much about all the different races as I can."<br>Sharla smiled. "It's great ta see a human so keen on learnin' history that did nae involve other humans."  
>"Why's that?"<br>"Well, fer starters, history ta a human is nae the same as it is ta a dwarf, or a gnome. Yer history only goes back a few hundred years or so. Yeh're a young race, Harry. Yeh don't live as long as dwarves, so yeh make up fer it by havin' scores o' wee ones. An' humans are given to flights o' fancy. Yeh're flighty and fickle and change yer minds twenty times a day."  
>Harry started to protest, but Sharla smiled. "I'm not cuttin' a jibe at yeh, Harry! I mean no disrespect. But yeh got to look at it from our point o' view. What yeh humans call 'a day's work', a dwarf calls 'impatience'. When a dwarf does or says somethin', she's got tha foresight to consider what might happen ten or twenty or fifty years from now. And a human doesn't have that long."<br>"So yeh grow up fast. Yeh only stay young about twenty years. A dwarf is a youngun' till about fifty. Why, I'm barely a lass out of school and I'm seventy-eight! If I were a human, I'd be a doddering old crone by now. And night elves are even worse. Some o' them have been around for ten thousand years! D'yeh see what I'm meaning?"  
>Harry nodded, though he did not have the faintest idea what a Night Elf looked like, only a vague description of them as tall purple elves. They passed the Explorer's Hall, and Harry could see a number of large plaques and displays set out in a sort of museum highlighting a brief history of dwarven exploration and archaeology; trophies, artifacts, and skeletons dotted the colossal cavern. It all looked very interesting, but Harry did not have the time to stop and admire the antiquities. "Rhonin said something about dwarves having a lot of resolve. He said you're the first to enter a fight and the last to leave."<br>Sharla grinned at the compliment. "Aye, that we are. Yeh humans call us stubborn, and mayhaps there's a bit o' truth ta that, but our word is our bond, Harry."  
>"So what would you say is an item that represents you?"<br>Sharla narrowed her eyes. "I wouldna try ta shovel us all in th' same boat, Harry. But we all have a bit o' the earth in us. 'Swhy we built Ironforge inna great mountain. A human mighta tried to go around, and a gnome mighta come up with some fantastic machine to go over it, but to a dwarf, it's just as easy ta go straight through. We - ach, so sorry, Harry," said Sharla. Harry had felt a small jolt on the back of his shoe and looked to see what Sharla was apologizing for when he saw a small pebble, smooth and round. He bent to pick it up, but Sharla was already down on one knee, reaching for it. She grabbed it and stood up abruptly.  
>"This be exactly what I be referrin' to, Harry. A dwarf is just like a stone," she said, handing the pebble to Harry. "I hope this adds to yer collection."<br>Harry took the pebble with a smile. "This will be fine, thanks."  
>They had entered a tunnel, and Harry could hear a number of high-pitched, excited voices and a number of mysterious clanks, buzzes, and explosions coming from the other end. Gibble snapped out of his quiet contemplation. "Did you have any questions pertaining to the history of gnomes? Admittedly, there is precious little oral history; most of our documents were kept in the archives in Gnomeregan, and they were, of course, destroyed when the city fell."<br>Harry shrugged. "Err...well, I'll ask the same question. What would you say a gnome is in one word?"  
>Gibble pondered for a moment, scratching his chin. "Ingenius," he said at last. "A gnome is never truly happy unless he or she is creating something new, or improving upon something existing. It is what drives us to infinite success. There are, of course, pitfalls and setbacks, but we persevere. Even the fall of our home city and the eradication of approximately fifty percent of our population - and not completely our fault, either - could not diminish our capacity for invention. They exited the tunnel and came upon a section of the city inhabited by several gnomes, male and female alike.<br>Gibble beamed. "Our cousins the dwarves were kind enough to allow us refuge in Ironforge, and this is where we currently reside. Welcome to Tinker Town!" Harry paused for a moment and looked around. A large tunnel with a sign saying "To Deeprun Tram" welcomed him, and a number of shops were inset along the walls, advertising things like "Berryfizz's Potions & Mixed Drinks" and "Springspindle's Gadgets". Here and there gnomes were deep in conversation, inspecting hand-made machinery and gearworks. Harry was amused. "Err, Gibble, what's with the names? Are there a lot of Berryfizzes around here?" said Harry.  
>Gibble laughed. "Oh, no, no, Harry. Gnomish naming conventions do not follow those of humans. Humans give their children their own surname, which was passed down from their father, which was passed down from their father, and so on and so forth. A gnome is given a name at birth, and then when they are of age, they may choose a surname that reflects their own accomplishments and not those of their families. It is a mark of independence and free spirit when a gnome chooses not to be burdened by past transgressions and instead opts to learn from his mistakes. I myself chose the surname Geartoggle when I was fifty-two, due to my fascination with engineering."<br>"Engineering. Gears and bolts and whatnot?" asked Harry.  
>Gibble nodded. "Essentially, yes, although there is significantly more to it than that. I'm afraid my fingers are more accustomed to crafting machinery out of parts than to raw manufacturing - I leave that to the dwarves. But yes, gears are vital to engineering."<p>

He reached into a bag on his hip and pulled out a thick, shiny bronze gear, and passed it to Harry. "You may have this; I have many other similar ones on me at all times. One never knows when inspiration may strike." They reached the entrance to the Deeprun Tram, and Sharla and Gibble paused. "This is where we'll be leaving yeh, Harry. We've still business to attend to here in the city. There's two trams, and they run on a tight schedule so yeh've not long ta wait; if yeh miss one, tha other'll be along directly."  
>Harry extended his hand, and Sharla grasped it firmly. "Best wishes to yeh, Harry. Perhaps our paths will cross again in the future."<br>Gibble shook Harry's hand in turn, clasping it with two small hands. "Fortune favors the prepared mind. Expect the best, but prepare for the worst. Good luck!"  
>Harry grinned. "Thanks."<br>Harry could not help but be a little forlorn at having to leave his two new friends, but he had a mission to accomplish, and so with a last wave, he turned and headed down the long hallway that led to the Deeprun Tram. 


	10. In Which Harry Meets A Draenei

A number of dwarves and gnomes were already seated in the waiting area between the two tracks, and Harry took an empty bench nearby. Sharla had been right; Harry had only been waiting about two minutes when he felt an enormous rumbling. Suddenly, three large tram cars came whizzing down the track behind him. They came to an immediate and complete stop, and Harry, following the other passengers, cautiously stepped onto the central car. "Better hang on, lad," grunted a black-haired dwarf next to him. "The Tram'll get yeh if yeh don't mind it."

Harry was about to ask what exactly he was supposed to hang on to when the doors closed and the tram took off. Harry was nearly thrown off his feet - the tram was _fast_! He staggered to a corner and held on to a metal support.

The dwarf guffawed. "I warned yeh!" he laughed.

Harry ignored him, and soon got his bearings as the tram track descended further down the tunnel. Once he was steady, he noticed that the tunnel had opened up, and that it ran directly underneath a clear blue-green lake or sea. Harry was impressed; certainly no underground he'd ever been on had gone through an underwater glass tunnel. Schools of brightly colored fish swam lazily by, but Harry had barely noticed them before the glass tunnel ended and the tram started ascending up the track. Moments later, the tram, as quickly as before, came to a sudden stop, and the passengers disembarked down the long corridor. Harry followed suit, and in no time found himself in the middle of a large pavilion.

"Harry Potter!" called an unfamiliar and loud voice. Harry jerked his head to the left where the voice had come from to see one of the strangest beings he had ever met, and that included the talking dragons and big-headed gnomes. She (Harry guessed) was a good foot taller than Harry, and she had light purple skin and glowing yellow eyes. Underneath a stylish white hairstyle lay two curved white horns. She had ruby-red lips and two odd-looking small tendrils under her chin. She also had what appeared to be goat hooves for feet. She was wearing a simple lavender robe and sash, and Harry thought he could see a long tail swishing behind her.

"You are human mage Harry Potter, yes? On mission?" she said assertively with a strange accent. Harry regarded her distrustfully; who was this strange female just walking up to him in the middle of some city he didn't even know? "Err...who wants to know?"

"We have same friend, I think. I get message. Message have description, say wait for you here," she said.

"Same friend? Who? Who are you?" said Harry, unamused.

The female sighed. "Yes. Forgive. Not meaning ill, but I speak Common tongue not well. I am Doruu, priestess of the Light," she conceded, bowing.

Harry unstiffened a bit. "Yes, well, thank you for waiting. Who sent you the message?"

"Message sent by sister in Light Sharla Stonefist. Arrive only few moments ago."

Harry was perplexed; even an owl wouldn't have been able to outrun the tram. Doruu noticed his expression and explained that messages sent from one major city to another could be sent via magic mailbox. But if that was the case, why didn't Sharla tell him to be expecting Doruu?

"Come, human. It is near midday meal. I purchase, you eat, we talk, yes?" offered Doruu.

Harry was still a bit wary, but the thought of lunch made him relax a little as she led him to the tavern next door.

* * *

><p>"Draenei came this world several year ago," explained Doruu as Harry tucked in to an enormous plate of barbecued boar ribs - not his first choice, but this world's food was still a bit strange to him and beggars couldn't be choosers - and a flagon of some sort of berry juice. It was sweet and delicious and made Harry feel ten times better. He nodded politely as Doruu spoke, trying to listen and eat at the same time.<p>

"Long ago, Eredar people live peacefully on Argus. Much prosperity. Much magic. But most powerful demon Sargeras - " she made a sour face as she spoke the name - " drawn to magic. Offer three Eredar leaders power beyond comprehension. Archimonde and Kil'jaeden accept, begin taint Eredar. Only Velen refuse. Velen have vision. Vision show world in ruin, all Eredar dead. Velen escape with loyal Eredar in fortress Tempest Keep to new world. Velen rename Eredar to Draenei; means 'Exiled Ones' in native tongue."

"Wha dee olzis happ?" said Harry through a mouthful of food, quite rudely.

"Pardon? I am thinking human custom not talk and eat at same time," said Doruu.

Harry swallowed and looked sheepish. "When did all this happen?"

"Many eon ago. Such small time Draenei, but long time human. Human live hundred year, yes? I think maybe...two hundred fifty of human lifetimes."

Harry choked and coughed. The number was staggering. "Twenty...twenty-five thousand years ago?" he asked, incredulously.

Doruu nodded. "Is true. Light keep Draenei alive forever if have faith. But..." she sighed sadly. "Light not keep Draenei alive from betrayal and murder. Kil'jaeden slaughter nearly all eredar. Follow from world to world. Last world, Draenor. Home of orcs. We live with orcs peacefully, teach each other many things. Some draenei learn shaman ways. But as always, Kil'jaeden find us, corrupt us. This time, use new orc friend against us. Taint with demon magic. Orc turn wild, bloodthirsty. Four in five draenei dead or worse. We reclaim part of Tempest Keep and escape. Malfunction cause ship crash on island in Azeroth."

"Now many beings here. Night elves and humans and dwarves and gnomes and worgen. Night elves fight demons. Sacrifice immortality to defend world. Draenei honored to stand aside such worthy people."

"Humans, dwarves have same faith in Light. Show in different ways, but still same, and Draenei pleased to have allies against demons and orcs."

"Worgen fight against corruption. Draenei know is difficult not succumb to darkness inside. See happen much. Draenei pity, but also help worgen when can."

"Draenei not sure of gnomes. Gnomes very smart and invent many wondrous things, but also consort with demon. Gnomes say have total control, but draenei wonder if true. Draenei study magic many lifetimes of gnomes. Draenei know what demon magic capable of doing. Demon magic kill our people."

"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I didn't know-"

"Is no worry," replied Doruu, waving her hand. "Is in past. Is no good dwell on mistakes. Every day still alive, thank Light for blessing. New challenge, new opportunity, every day."

Harry had finished eating and was listening intently. "So, what's with you and Sharla? How can you be sisters?"

Doruu smiled and rested her head in her hands, looking directly at Harry, her amber eyes shining. Harry could see that there was a kind of beauty in her strangeness; she definitely had a pretty smile. "Sister in Light. Draenei have paladin and priest of Light, too. Paladin protect innocent, heal battle wounds, deliver justice and retribution to enemy. Paladin not fight because like fight. Paladin fight to defend. Priest comfort wounded, teach other about the Light, devote time and self to understanding of the Light."

"And...what is the Light? Is it like...God?" Harry asked.

Doruu shook her head. "Is many things. Is also not many things. Is...connection between self and universe. Is spirtual. Is goodness. Is honor. Beseech Light, pray for guidance. Do good deeds, help sick, aid needy, feed hungry. Light reward pure and just with power and peace."

"Is not god. Is not blindness. Is not cruelty. Is not ignorance. Is not impatience. Take many years learn nature of Light. Many human and dwarf lose faith when find out how long study take. Is no problem; weed out unworthy. Paladin who have no resolve to devote to understanding the Light be problem in battle. Take most fervent belief to destroy undead."

Harry was puzzled. "Un...dead?" He immediately thought of Inferi, magically animated corpses, and shuddered.

Doruu cocked her head, also puzzled. "You do not know undead? Person die, evil magic bring to life with no memory. Slave to magic. Is terrible and tragic. Undead abomination to natural cycle of life. The Light remove evil from undead, undead destroyed. Well, most time. Forsaken exception."

Harry's eyebrows raised. "Forsaken?"

Doruu regarded him sadly. "Not spend much time outside arcane study? Study good, yes, but must prepare for world."

"Many year ago, Lich King raise whole army of undead. Too many, even for Lich King, and some break free of Lich King control. Regain memories and drive for survive. Form own nation, call selves Forsaken. Draenei destroy Forsaken on sight, but Forsaken resist exorcism, fight back very fierce. If not have bigger problems to worry now, all Draenei march to Forsaken city and remove Forsaken from world!" she said emphatically.

Harry was floored. So in this world, the dead could come back to life, able to walk and talk. He wouldn't have had to face all those years alone, he could have seen his mother and father again. They would have been more than ghosts; they would have been real, they could have helped him defeat Voldemort, and Sirius wouldn't have died, and Lupin...

He snapped out of his self-pity when he thought of Lupin, and how he, and Sirius, and his parents, would be disappointed in him for feeling so sorry for himself, and thinking of Lupin made him think of the worgen and the night elves. Doruu's words were still ringing in his ears, about how it did not bode well to dwell on the past. "Er, Doruu," he said. "I do have a sort of...quest. I'm...studying all the races of this-er, the world. What's the first word you think of when you think of Draenei?"

Doruu regarded him. "Many words. Some I not know in Common. But Draenei defined by the Light. The Light bless and protect us. Three lessons of the Light must a priest learn. Three Virtues."

"First virtue is Respect. Each thing has place in world. Do not harm what you would value if yours."

"Next virtue is Tenacity. World too large to remake in one day. Stone may dam river, yet river will erode stone after time. Perseverance creates strength."

"Last is Compassion. This virtue take many year understand. Is why taught last. Draenei - or dwarf, or human, or any who follow the Light - accomplish more if brighten life of others instead of self. Give aid freely and without reservation, but do not diminish one who receive it. Never brag or boast of aid, for is not truly aid; is only brag or boast."

Harry soaked it all in like a sponge. The Draenei were certainly very interesting creatures; devoted to goodness and purity and things like that. He wondered what it would be like to not have any sort of darkness inside; it might have made his school years a bit more tolerable, not having to worry about Voldemort sneaking inside his head, creating doubt and despair out of nothing - but then without any sort of deceit or mischief, school would definitely have been a lot more boring.

"You have question?" said Doruu. "Is no problem. Many seek counsel priest or priestess; priest guide all to understanding."

"Right. So, what about an item or something? Is there something that a human could look at and say, 'That's definitely Draenei'?"

Doruu sighed and shook her head. "Not concern self with worldly good, human Harry Potter. But yes, Draenei known for great skill with jewels." She reached up to her right ear - Harry could see a long curved tip on it - and removed a gleaming pearl earring. To Harry's surprise, she repeated the action on her left ear.

"Draenei delight in pearl. Tiny grain inside oyster long time, come out beautiful gem. Draenei cut many ruby, emerald, sapphire, diamond, but none perfect as pearl. Take perserverance for pearl to form. Smooth and round. White and shining like the Light." She passed the earrings to Harry, and he held them up admiringly. Doruu had obviously taken great care in crafting them.

"Draenei not use jewel to display wealth or boast of skill. Draenei simply have natural talent for smooth rough edges of gem. Imbue gem with magic essence, cut facet properly, make amulet, protect from harm."

Harry went to return the earrings, but Doruu held a hand up. "Is okay. You take. Sharla say your quest need object from all races of Azeroth. You have human, dwarf, gnome. Now have draenei."

"And orc," added Harry.

Doruu frowned. "Orc? I am thinking you need only Alliance. Why have orc item? What quest you have?"

Harry hesitated. Should he tell her his true mission? Alexstrasza had warned him that if the items weren't given freely, they would be worthless. But Doruu was so kind and pure; surely it wouldn't hurt to tell her just a little of his story.

"Listen," he said, lowering his voice. "I'm...alright, look. I'm not really...from this world, either. This great red dragon summoned me here and I have to collect symbols of all the races to get back home."

Doruu's eyes flew wide, and she sat upright. "Alexstrasza? The Lifegiver?" she said, reverently. "Draenei know of her. She is guardian of world. Protector of life. She know great joy and also great sorrow. If quest she give you to return to home world, quest you must accept. Help if I can. Draenei know what it like be separated from home world."

Harry smiled in appreciation. "Thanks, Doruu," he said, storing the earrings in his bag. "Could you maybe tell me how to get to where the night elves are?"

Doruu stood. "Why tell? Show. Come with me."


	11. In Which Harry Gains A Map

As Doruu led Harry along the smooth red brick streets of Stormwind, she gave him a brief history of the city - how it had been built centuries ago, then ravaged, then rebuilt, then invaded by orcs, then rebuilt again, then attacked by the terrible black dragon Deathwing, and rebuilt yet again. It was a testament, noted Doruu, to humankind's will to persevere.

Throughout the city a number of clean, well-built houses stood firm and erect, and a variety of shops and stores lined the canals that wove their way through Stormwind, selling everything from flowers to fresh fish. Harry followed her to the grand castle on the far east side of the city; Doruu had wanted to introduce him to the King, but His Majesty was in the middle of a long and boring political council meeting with a lot of self-important nobles and would not be available for the rest of the day. As she led Harry to the Royal Library, Harry could not help but pretend not to notice Doruu's long, thin tail flicking back and forth as she walked in front of him; as committed as Harry was to Ginny, he was not completely dead and Doruu was quite attractive.

The library was rather small compared to the one at Hogwarts and it was, as Harry expected, full of a number of dusty old tomes and volumes of books written hundreds of years ago about subjects most people did not have the slightest inclination to read. Harry's eyes passed over several books with titles like _Experimental Arcane Crossovers With Technology: A Treatise On Magical Replacements For Mundane Inventions _and _Carnivorous Species Of Northern Stranglethorn, Animal And Plant: Volume Two _and _The Only Good Troll Is A Dead Troll: A Case For Preemptive Self-Defensive Specicide_.

As Harry was poring over the less obnoxious titles, he felt a tap on his arm. Doruu had procured a replica of an atlas and was presenting it to him.

"Here. Take. I am lover of books, so I am helping at library. Create inks, copy pages, sometimes replicate volumes. Written word very powerful, very moving. Oral tradition also strong, but lose meaning over time. Book of maps helpful on quest. Never lost. Look, have symbol for showing where book is."

Harry was impressed; the atlas was small, but bright and colorful, showing maps of several unfamiliar locations, all of them drawn in beautiful, vivid detail. Harry turned to the map of Stormwind, and there was indeed a small, pulsing yellow circle showing where in the keep he was. It followed him as they walked down the entrance ramp leading to and from the keep. He paused, just next to a canal, perusing the atlas with fervor.

"This is...this is fantastic," said Harry, thrilled. "How can I repay you?"

Doruu looked thoughtful. "Well..." she started. "Draenei not like give gift with...erm...what is phrase? 'String attached'. But perhaps we exchange for benefit of both?"

Harry nodded. "What did you have in mind?"

"In note Sharla write, she say you have powerful spell. Conjure white spirit, drive off demon. Would very much like to see spell. Perhaps you teach?" asked Doruu.

Harry nodded. "Fair enough."

"This is called the Patronus spell," explained Harry, standing at a comfortable distance to teach her a spell. "It summons a sort of guardian or protector against evil. Everyone's Patronus is different. You have to concentrate on a very happy memory, something that evil can't stand. Love and friendship and kindness, that sort of thing."

Harry drew his wand, imagined the moment Ginny had accepted his marriage proposal, and shouted, "Expecto Patronum!"

His familiar silver stag shot out of his wand, and it bounded around him a time or two before Harry cleared it away with a swish. "Give it a try, then," he encouraged.

Doruu reached into the folds of her robe and withdrew a small white token, probably a symbol of her faith. She closed her eyes, seemingly in prayer, and rubbed a dainty finger across the symbol. "Expecto Patronum!" she parroted.

Harry was ready for nothing to happen, or to see a small wisp or puff of smoke. But to Harry's great shock, something resembling an enormous white elephant with long, sharp ears instead of large flaps issued forth from her holy symbol and stood resolutely. It silently blew its strange trunk and glared at Harry, daring him to come near it.

Doruu returned her holy symbol to her robe, and the elephant vanished. She looked at Harry, beaming. "Very good spell, Harry!"

Harry frowned. "That's an extremely advanced magic spell. I was one of the youngest to ever do it properly and even a lot of adults can't do it. How did you pick it up so easily?"

Doruu blinked at Harry. "Advanced maybe for human or dwarf or gnome, but simple for Draenei. Draenei have magic flow in blood like water in ocean. Spell take year for human study, day for Draenei. Is not boast; is fact. Draenei maybe not so good with problem no have obvious solution. Human much better at creative thinking."

"Light also very potent force for good and love. Feel good everywhere. Feel love everywhere. I thank Light for blessing, Light...er...add? Augment. Light augment Draenei magic; Light complete what Draenei begin."

Harry nodded, slowly understanding; with a spell like the Patronus Charm, it was easy to see just how powerful a force for good the Light could be. "What sort of memory did you use?"

"Memory simple. Memory was from birth of child. Child named Jenshaa. When she born, promise love her all time. No matter if far from home, or Jenshaa misbehave, or Jenshaa angry and scream, or Jenshaa pout for no reason, still I love with all heart."

Harry smiled, but he stopped when he saw that Doruu was not returning it. "Where is she now?"

Doruu sighed heavily, and Harry was afraid he had gone too far. "She die when Exodar crash. So small. So fragile. But always in war, first casualty are innocent." Harry was startlingly reminded of something quite similar a centaur had said years before. He understood all too well how terrible it was to lose a family member to death, but it must have been much worse for a parent to lose a child. He reached a hand out to Doruu and tried his best to comfort her.

She smiled wanely as Harry extended an awkward arm around her shoulder. "Yes, Harry. For all talk of goodness and warmth and happiness, still, to lose child is very sad. Many nights I cry before sleep. Many nights I cry instead of sleep. But not lose hope. In Light, Jenshaa still live. And still I love Jenshaa. All heart, all time. Love stronger than death."

Harry was moved. He thought of all the people he had lost, and felt that Doruu was quite right; he would never stop loving them. He stood with her, lost in contemplation, for quite some time, and it was only when he felt something light and papery softly nudge him that his reverie was broken.

A paper zeppelin was gently floating and poking him in the back. He brushed it away, and it continued floating. A giggling child snickered and laughed, running away from Harry, but he was too amused to be upset. "Kids," he half-smiled.

Doruu returned his smile. "Indeed. Children reason for life. Reason fight for home. Make future better for children. You have children?"

Harry shook his head as they continued walking the streets of Stormwind. "Not yet. But soon. My wife and I, we've...well, we're trying, but so far..." he shrugged.

Doruu nodded. "Is fine. When time right, have child. Have many children. Children EVERYWHERE!" she beamed.  
>Harry laughed. "I think we'll be alright with three."<p>

* * *

><p>Their conversation led them to an enormous harbor with several huge, hulking ships, each bearing different flags and wrought in several different styles. One was a steam-powered ship, sturdy and built out of iron; another was a mercantile ship, with huge cargo holds for trading; and a third was small, sleek and stylish, built for speed and power. Doruu led Harry to the dock and turned to him.<p>

"This ship of Night Elves. Take you to Darnassus, meet night elves and worgen. Night elves teach worgen control, fight curse better. Some worgen here, but curse make it difficult live near...less wild ones. Darnassus city of trees, building carved from wood. Outdoor, close to nature."

"Well, this is where I have to leave, I suppose," said Harry. He extended a hand to Doruu, but she swept him up in a hug instead.

"Goodbye, my friend," she said mournfully. "If you return to Stormwind, perhaps you share story from your home?"

Harry smiled and nodded and found it difficult to say anything, but that was alright; there really didn't need to be much said, anyway. The ship blew a strange, sweet whistle, and one of the mysterious purple elves standing guard not too far away motioned to Harry.

"Sir, if you intend to board, make haste," she called in a throaty voice. "The Bravery always leaves on schedule."

Harry turned and waved one more time, wishing there was a way to take Doruu with him, then made his way to the boat moments before the gangplank was removed and it set sail across the wide ocean. He was entirely too preoccupied to notice the person on the dock clench a fist in anger at having missed the boat by a minute. Doruu, however, did notice, and she made an odd motion with her hands in the direction of Harry's pursuer. "The Light say it wonderful idea for you talk to city guard, explain everything," she said forcefully, indulging in a priest specialty of magical suggestion. The unknown pursuer agreed vehemently that it that was an excellent plan, and ran, nearly skipping with excitement, to the nearest guard to divulge all their secret plots and what they had to do with Harry.


	12. In Which Harry Rides A Boat

"Good day to you!" welcomed a sturdy-looking blonde woman. "Angelina Soluna, Captain of the Bravery, at your service," she said, bowing. "Oh, ah...Harry. Harry Potter," said Harry, extending a hand. She looked at him strangely. "Better be gold in your other hand, or you'll find yourself swimmin' home," she said sardonically.

"Oh! Uh..." He dug around in the coin purse Alexstrazsa had procured for him for some coins and held them out. "Is this enough?"

She smiled and took only a few of the silver ones, leaving the gold ones. "Aye. Welcome aboard!"

The Bravery, Captain Soluna pointed out to Harry as soon as they disembarked, was a passenger ship, designed for speed and mobility. It was guarded by Jin Solarwind and her elite Sentinels, and the ship had a perfect record; they had never had so much as a leaky bilge. Harry had never been one for ocean voyages; he preferred flying or Apparition. He did have to admit, though, that the ship was beautiful. Its sleek, firm ridges along its intricately designed prow suggested that human shipwrights had built it, but someone else, most likely the night elves, had influenced the design. It was gliding so smoothly across the ocean it seemed to be skipping along clouds.

Passage on the ship included a private cabin, dinner, and an early breakfast the following morning, when the ship would arrive in Darnassus. He passed the time in his cabin by practicing some of his spells, and by inspecting each of the symbols he had been given: the small but sharp axe, the golden key, the shiny gear, the smooth rock, and the pearl earrings. After so long, though, he began to get bored, and resolved to at least stretch his legs. He tried to make conversation with the guard nearest his cabin, about the weather and how long she had been serving, but she gave only the vaguest of answers and Harry rather felt like he was on a blind date with someone who had no interest in him. Doruu had warned him that the Night Elves, while staunch members of the Alliance, sometimes felt a bit disconnected from the hubbub of civilization. "Night elf make much music, much in tune with natural world. Exalted by draenei for action against Burning Legion. Revered by humans. Honored by dwarves. Friendly with gnomes. This I understand. But some night elf also change form into beast. Growl like bear or fly like bird. This I not understand. Form you born into is form you stay. Be happy with what you have," she had said.

Harry found himself topside and admired the view on the deck of the Bravery. It was quite a beautiful one; it was of a deep purple sunset, marked by a painting of brushed clouds breathing gently across the sun. Harry made his way to the starboard railing and leaned against it, trying to spot his reflection, but it was too dark and they were moving too fast for him to catch a glimpse. The evening's guards were beginning to rotate onto their shifts. A tall, lanky Sentinel approached him after seeing Harry watch her light all the ship's lanterns; they beamed with an unearthly but warming glow.

"First time to Darnassus?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "I...don't travel a lot," he explained.

The Sentinel nodded. "Many humans appreciate some time among the peace and solitude of the forest, away from the stampede of living in a large city. Darnassus is truly a wondrous place; there are artisans, merchants, craftsmen, and grand masters of nearly every trade. The Temple of Elune is our most sacred ground; tread lightly if you wish to see it for yourself."

The moments passed wordlessly; the sun had dipped below the horizon and the moon was beginning to show its face. It was enormous, magnitudes larger than the moon Harry remembered, and its light blanketed the water with a silvery softness.

"This is really beautiful," he replied, gesturing at the sky.

She smiled. "Indeed. What is ordinary and mundane to a Kaldorei is often considered beautiful and pleasing to a human. We have seen many thousands of sunsets across this ocean, and the eye of Elune guides us nightly, yet humans seem to enjoy them both more," she said.

"I suppose," answered Harry. "When you're not used to seeing certain things all the time, you appreciate it more."

The Sentinel contemplated this. "We are now beginning to learn this. You humans are so young, and so concerned with time, because you have so little. Once we were as timeless as Elune, and could enter the Emerald Dream for centuries; but in our arrogance we spat in Her eye, and so She took our gift, and we are mortal." She told Harry about how the original World Tree that had granted them their immortality had been destroyed to prevent the invasion of the Burning Legion, and how Night Elves had planted a new World Tree, Nordrassil, and how it had not been blessed by the spirit of nature. Though it gave the night elves - Kaldorei in their own language - a new home, without nature's blessing, they were no longer immune to the ravages of disease and age. "But still we have much to learn about the brevity of life," she remarked. "We must learn how to forgive transgressions more easily and how to see joy in simple things, as humans do."

"Well-" started Harry.

But just as he began talking, a klaxon issued forth from the crow's nest of the ship. "Tribe of naga, port astern!" yelled the lookout.

Harry spun in the direction the lookout was pointing. He could see nothing but the ocean in all directions, and what might have been movement in the distance could have been nothing more than the waves crashing; it was so hard to see in the low light. "Get below deck, sir!" said the Sentinel, as the crew came rushing from below to stand ready. Harry was torn. On one hand, he had no idea who or what a naga was, and why it was cause for alarm for them to be sighted. On the other hand, the ship members had shown him nothing but hospitality, and he wanted to repay them. "There's something coming!" he shouted.

"Helm, full stop! Archers, ready!" called the captain. The ship slowed, then stopped completely, as four night elves sprang forth in formation, two kneeling and two standing, all with their deadly bows nocked and taut. They scanned the ocean for any signs of activity, but saw nothing, but the rocking of the waves.

Harry drew his wand and joined the search. "What's going on?" he asked.

The captain eyed him warily. "The Naga are vicious sea monsters. They're like Night Elves, but not as we know them. It's a long story and I don't have the time for a history lesson. I also don't understand why they're attacking this ship. We've done this route a thousand times, and we've never been waylaid before. And if you must put yourself in harm's way, at least have the courtesy to stand back."

Harry did as he was instructed, and had positioned himself at the rear of the archers, when suddenly a loud splash erupted from the sea. Harry was startled to see a number of ferocious looking serpents spring out of the water and on board the ship. They were humanoids, at least some of them; what he assumed were the females had faces resembling night elves, and might have been quite comely, had they not had four arms and half a snake for a body. The males were the opposite; more snake than elf, two arms each, with long, protruding, serpentine snouts and rippling scales across their chests.

"Thisssss is the one! The ssssspecial human! Take him!" hissed one. But the snake-thing had no sooner issued its order than an arrow had lodged itself in his chest, cutting him off. It collapsed, squirming and trying desperately to dislodge the arrow, but to no avail. Another naga took its place, wielding a deadly-looking trident. He charged toward Harry, slithering, when another arrow whizzed through the air, and the naga barely deflected it with its trident.

"There's naga on the starboard bow!" shouted Jin, racing across to the opposite side of the ship.

"Scrape 'em off, Jin!" yelled the captain.

The males were brutes, wielding swords and tridents and nets, while the females were the intelligent ones, capable of casting crude magic. They fired slow but potent bolts of pure ice, some of them only barely missing him. Harry tried to counter some of these spells with Shield Spells of his own, but these had the unexpected consequence of being impenetrable to the archers' arrows as well. They swore at him in their own tongue, and he grudgingly relinquished his spells, allowing the arrows - and the naga - passage. The naga kept coming. One would fall, and two more would take its place. The archers were exceptional, but there were more naga than archers.

Then Harry had an idea. If he could not protect the archers against the naga directly, maybe he could assist them indirectly. "_Auxilium Petere_!" he shouted. Suddenly, the night elves found their arrows striking true with every shot. _Shwipp_! A naga's spell was interrupted as an arrow pierced its throat. _Pzing_! Another naga found itself with an arrow in the forehead. _Thwick_! Harry recoiled a bit as a naga slid off the ship, a long shaft having completely penetrated its eye.

The archers were evidently pleased with the assistance, and soon they were beating back the naga. The naga hissed and snarled, and gave one last attempt at capturing Harry with a net. This proved unsuccessful, though, when Harry quickly sent the flying net back onto its wielder with a Banishing Spell.

"Retreat! Our massster may yet sssspare ussss!" called one of the naga, and the remaining assailants slid off the ship and into the briny water. Moments passed. The archers stood ready in case the naga were feinting, but there were no more signs of activity beneath the waves, and the archers slowly lowered their bows.

"Yeah!" shouted the captain. Similar cheers came from the rest of the crew, and one of the archers turned to Harry.

"We did not ask for your assistance, human," she said, almost angrily. "You humans are known for this - this foolhardiness."

Harry was stunned, but then the archer's expression softened. "But this is what I like about you. You give with no thought of recompense. You selflessly charge into battle, ready to protect and defend your home, your families - and your allies." She extended a hand to him, and Harry took it, gratefully. "Thank you."

Captain Soluna was tending to the rest of the crew. There were no fatalities, and only one casualty. One of the Sentinels had a flesh wound where a naga's trident had scraped her shoulder; possibly sore for a while until they reached Darnassus, but not serious. Harry was feeling pretty good about their battle, until -

WHAM!

The entire ship shook. One of the crew members screamed.

WHAM!

The ship shook again, and Harry heard a disturbing creak.

WHAM!

The ship shook one more time, and to Harry's horror he heard the creak break into a deafening splinter as the entire ship was split in two. He had barely had time to process the scenario before all members aboard were diving into the ocean to flee the shinking ship. He found himself in cold, dark water, spluttering, when something heavy hit the back of his head, and he knew no more.


	13. In Which Harry Meets A Worgen

Harry found himself in a green fog. All around him were blurry images, voices almost loud enough to be perceived, and fuzzy movies looping over and over for a few seconds. He was walking - flying - swimming - gliding around, but the fog stayed with him no matter where he went. The images shone and shook as he got near; he reached out to touch one, but it disappeared before he could reach it and reappeared when he drew his hand back.

_What's going on here?_ he thought, only to hear his own voice echo inside his head.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" he tried to shout, but his voice was swallowed by the fog almost before the words had left his mouth.

_Be not afraid, friend. You are traversing my domain._

Harry wanted to listen, to stay calm, but he was starting to panic. He had no idea where he was or what he was doing.

"Who are you? What's going on?"

_Be at peace. Your body is weary; your mind exhausted; your heart heavy. Rest here._

The fog shimmered and lifted, and he could see clearly - indeed, more clearly than he had ever seen anything before. Dazzling, bright colors shone from everything around him. He was standing on a beach. The crystal blue sky above was infinite and cloudless, and the foam-green sea in front of him was sparkling with an otherwordly clarity. Rainbow-colored fish swam and jumped out of the water, and Harry thought for a moment that one even winked at him.

The endless rush of the tide was monstrously loud, and up and down the golden yellow beach flew flocks of seagulls, shiny silver and white instead of dull grey, cawing and careening on the breezes.

_Is this not paradise?_

The scent of seawater overtook him, and he remembered something from a long time ago. He had been to the ocean several times before, as a young child, when his uncle and aunt and cousin had gone and didn't want to leave him alone in the house. It seemed like so long ago, in another time, in another life, and yet, the smell of the ocean would stay with him forever. It was something that nobody could ever take away from him, not his relatives, not Voldemort , not even the entire wizarding world could ever make him forget - the smell of the ocean, and the promise that he had made to himself to one day bring his own family to the ocean, where there was something big enough for everyone to share.

"Harry! Over here!" shouted a voice from Harry's left. He turned to look, and was shocked. There was Ginny, sitting a few feet away on the sand, in a big straw hat and sunglasses, wearing a blue striped swimsuit. Ron and Hermione were there, too, and - children? Five of them, laughing, running, playing, three boys and two girls, one with flaming red hair, looking just like Ginny.

"Finally! We've been waiting for ages," said Ron, as Harry approached them.

"Hi Daddy!" said the girl with the red hair. "I missed you!" She ran to him and hugged him, and Harry was taken aback. Daddy?

"Hi...er...sweetheart," said Harry uncertainly. He didn't have any children. "Missed you too!"

She grinned and giggled and ran off to play with the other children.

"Isn't it a lovely day?" said Ginny. "Everything's so lovely. The beach is lovely. You're lovely. The children are lovely. I'm lovely. Lovely, lovely, lovely."

Harry frowned. "Err, Ginny?"

"Lovely, lovely, lovely," she repeated, as though she hadn't heard him.

"Ginny?"

"Lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely, lovely..."

Harry was past uncomfortable, crashing straight through apprehension, and was on a collision course with outright unnerving. Suddenly, a bright flash of light appeared and was gone, and he knew something was definitely wrong. Before, the ocean had been a perfect scene of idyll; now, there were huge chunks of it missing, replaced with bits and pieces of dirt, stone, and wood. Not floating, as if they had been dumped overboard, but more like someone had tried to copy a castle piece by piece but only had some of the pieces and had the instructions wrong.

*FLASH* More of the ocean went missing, replaced with more dirt and stone.

*FLASH* Parts of the sky were replaced, with shades of yellow, red, and black blending in with the soft blue, and what looked disturbingly like empty space.

"No," said Harry. "This is not paradise."

*FLASH* The entire scene vanished, and once more the green fog was everywhere. This time, the pictures and voices and movies were clear. The pictures were of him. The voices were of his friends. The movies were of times in his life...learning how to read...being Sorted...telling Ginny he loved her for the first time...being best man at his best friends' wedding...

The green fog faded to black, and took Harry with it.

* * *

><p>As he came to, the first sensation he could identify was an incessant pounding in his head like a heartbeat<em>...thrum...thrum...thrum...<em> He hoped to Merlin that the throbbing would go away soon; it was annoying and his head hurt as it was. Then, slowly, he felt the throbbing change. Instead of a constant_ thrumm - thrumm - thrumm_, it was alternately slowing down and speeding up. Now it was more like a _thrummmm...thrumthrum...thrum-thrumthrumthrum...thrum-thrum-thrum._

He also noticed that it wasn't pitch black anymore. His eyes opened to a dim haze peppered with dots. He blinked a few times until the dim haze brightened into a shining haze. Gradually, the throbbing in his head subsided, and the thrumming had turned into a sound he could recognize - conversation. Two-no, three different voices were chattering excitedly.

"...Cenarion Circle must be told," said one, a deep, rumbling bass.

"We must see if he awakens first," said an alto, a more familiar voice. _A Night Elf?_ wondered Harry.

"'E's all right," said a third, a baritone, in a vaguely recognizable accent. "He's movin' 'round, see?"

Harry blinked, rubbed his eyes, and tried to sit up, but the relentless pounding in his head fought him the whole way. He slumped back down, groaning and holding a hand to his forehead.

"Are you injured?" asked the alto voice.

"Where...where am I?" he said hoarsely.

"Here, drink this. It will help."

She held up a flask of something bittersweet and milky to his mouth, and though it left a terrible taste in his mouth and made his stomach dance, his head started feeling better almost immediately. He tried to sit up, and this time made it all the way.

The shining haze had formed into a dark grey sky, with huge, puffy clouds floating serenly by. The two other voices belonged to races of beings unlike any he had ever met before. To his left sat an enormous bull-man - a Tauren, Alexstrasza had said - rugged and shaggy, with horns of an old, yellowed ivory. To his right was a Worgen - certainly he resembled the werewolves he knew back home, with loping legs and a curled snout showing rows of glistening fangs, but he looked more like quarter wolf, three-quarter human - but one that was paying him very little attention.

"What's going on? Who are you?" asked Harry, still hoarse and confused.

The night elf spoke. "My name is Indilwen. This is Malchior Feralheart," she gestured at the tauren, who nodded once, "and this is -"

"No, I ain't," interrupted the worgen quite rudely. "Call me Splatterpaw," he said. "Me given name makes me sound like an old man."

Gingerly, Harry rose to his feet and looked around. The world was still a bit fuzzy, but he could see well enough to discern the shapes of a bunch of tall, looming trees overhead. He had landed, or washed ashore, or been deposited, or whatever, on the grey sandy shores of an ocean darker and gloomier than the one he had been sailing on when the ship sank.

"So, where am I? And what happened to the ship?" asked Harry, looking around. The entire area had a mournful air to it, as if some great tragedy had befallen the place.

Indilwen appraised Harry, to make sure he was able to stand on his own two feet. She was a lithe, muscular elf, Harry noticed, with a nice balance between grace and strength. Her royal purple hair was long and flowing and not in a long braid like the Sentinels.

"We will tell you what we know," she began. "Around a week ago, the Cenarion Circle received news of an increased Naga presence here in Darkshore. Normally, they know to leave us alone, but we had heard reports that they numbered unusually high in recent weeks. We were dispatched to perform surveillance to see if it was merely a nuisance or a credible threat. When we arrived here, we discovered that we were too late - the ship had sank only moments before."

"We must tell you that the Bravery has seen its last voyage," intoned the Tauren in a deep, booming voice. "But the Earth Mother saw fit to point us in the direction of the survivors. I am afraid we were not able to rescue all of the crew; two of them had already gone to their eternal rest by the time we arrived."

"Thought it were gonna be three for a mo'," snapped Splatterpaw, suddenly interested. "Gave us a turn there, you did. By the way, what's your name, chum?"

"I'm...Harry. Harry Potter," said Harry.

"Well, Harry, Harry Potter, lucky for you we found you when we did, otherwise you'da ended up same as them other two what weren't so lucky," said Splatterpaw, picking his teeth.

The three rescuers took turns explaining what had happened to the ship. From what they could gather, a gnome engineer had recently been assigned to the ship to replace a former crewman who had retired after decades of service. Moments before Harry had boarded, the engineer began acting suspiciously, muttering to himself and pacing anxiously. The second mate, sensing something was wrong, had relieved him of his duties and sent him to his quarters to rest until he was feeling better, but he had somehow known the naga would attack and used the diversion to plant explosives, sacrificing himself and triggering a set of explosions that cracked the boat in two.

"There were no naga remaining by the time we arrived. It does sound suspicious, but we have only two explanations," mused Indilwen.

"The first is that the naga were goaded into attacking the ship and that the sabotage was a coincidence. From the accounts of the survivors, this is unlikely."

"The second is that it was a deliberate diversion, and the engineer who destroyed himself was working in concert with the naga. Some of the crew reported hearing a naga deliberately call for your capture - that their target was you all along."

Harry was stunned. Why would some race of sea creatures he'd never met and a gnome want to target him?  
>"Yeah, why <em>would<em> they target you?" growled Splatterpaw.

"How did you..." said Harry, puzzled.

"Know what you were thinkin'? I didn't, mate. It were just written all over yer face. Looked like surprise an'guilt. 'Course, hard to tell, face ugly as yours," came the reply with a sinister smirk.

"Splatterpaw! Mind yourself!" rebuked Malchior. "We beg your pardon, friend. Splatterpaw is new to our order. His...affliction causes him no end of grief."

"Toldja, I ain't got no affliction! 'S a blessin', it is!" snapped Splatterpaw, snarling.

Harry sighed. He couldn't really hold Splatterpaw's curse against him, not when he had seen first-hand what could happen during a werewolf's transformation.

"Whatever you call it, it does not allow you to harbor cruelty for cruelty's sake! Apologize at once!"

Splatterpaw whuffed, but backed down. "Sorry, mate. I were only foolin'," he said, chastised.

Harry shook his head. "Forget it. I had a friend who had the same...er...furry little problem. Sometimes he couldn't help it. I can handle it," said Harry.

Splatterpaw guffawed. "Furry little problem! I like yer line o' thinkin', mate." He grinned and punched Harry on the shoulder.

Harry's stomach suddenly rumbled, and he noticed that he was starving. "Err...how long was I out?"  
>"Comin' on three days now, mate," said Splatterpaw. "We were beginnin' to wonder if you'd ever wake up, or if you were like a druid or somesuch an' had gone to th' Emerald Dream."<p>

Harry moaned. Three days? He didn't have time to wait three days; his quest was vital.

"Now that you are fully awake, we must continue our investigation. We must ask you: why would the naga want to capture you? Have you offended them in some way? Are you wealthy, and they would ransom you for release? Or perhaps you are powerful with sword or spell and would make an excellent slave?" said Malchior.

Harry hesitated. He had only told one other person of his quest; surely Doruu would not have betrayed him? He had only known her a little while, yet he had sensed that she was firm in her faith and devotion to the Light. But he might have been unwise to discuss it in public, even with a whisper; there was no telling what someone else sitting nearby might have overheard.

He sighed. There was no getting out of it now; he would have to tell. Besides, evidently people - or Draenei, or orcs, or whoever - being from other worlds wasn't completely unheard of in this world. He took a deep breath and began his story.


	14. In Which Harry Flies

"So, let me see if I have this right, then," said Splatterpaw, after Harry had spent the next few minutes eating a very delicious type of bread and drinking some sort of honey and mint tea while explaining his story. "You're...a human."

"Right," said Harry.

"From...another world."

"Right," said Harry again.

"An' that ol' scaly lady, Alexstrasza, summoned you 'ere to save not only this world, but all other worlds as well? Not from bein' destroyed, but from bein' at all? An' the naga were after you t' stop you? Sorry, mate, but I'm just not buyin' what you're sellin'."

"Splatterpaw," rumbled Malchior. "The human is not deceiving us. His eyes do not waver; his face does not tighten; his hands remain unclenched. He tells the truth."

Splatterpaw growled. "No, 'e believes 'e's tellin' the truth, there's a difference! It just don't make sense! There's plenty a' 'eroes in Azeroth, why not one a' them?"

Indilwen reached out a hand to soothe Splatterpaw. "The Life-giver has her reasons, Splatterpaw. There is much about the nature of -"

Splatterpaw barked and recoiled from the night elf's touch. "Nature! All this about nature! Druids this an' Emerald Dream that an' Cenarion Circle somethin' else!" he complained.

Malchior had been sitting restfully, but stood up and drew himself up to a massive height; he easily towered over Harry by at least three feet. "Splatterpaw," he warned, stomping a massive, gnarled oak staff into the ground.

"Until you learn to master your anger, anger will be your only master. I understand it has not been a task to your liking, watching over this human while there is other work to be done, but you risk your pride or even your life if you cannot keep your rage in check. You must harness it, focus it to provide you with strength in times of need."

Splatterpaw howled. There was a flash, and to Harry's great surprise, where before Splatterpaw the Worgen had stood on two long, loping legs, now stood a bristled purple panther-like creature, on four shorter, thicker legs. He took off into the ocean, the powerful muscles in his shoulders rippling like waves. In another flash he had changed form yet again, this time into something resembling a sea lion, and dove beneath the waves, out of sight.

Malchior sighed. "So much anger," he said, lost in thought for a few moments.

"Why's he so mad?" asked Harry, shocked.

Indilwen picked up where Malchior had left off. "Splatterpaw has no small amount of mistrust of others. He blames himself for his curse, though he pretends otherwise. There is a breaking point at which those afflicted with the curse can lose control of themselves and do terrible things, and like many of the Worgen, he hates and fears the monster he may become at that point." Harry nodded, understanding completely; he knew precisely what Splatterpaw was going through, since Lupin had gone through it as well.

"Many of his kind have sought druidic training," said Malchior at last. "In the form of a wild animal, emotions are less complex and easier to control. Running through a forest or swimming through the sea gives much relief to an angry heart. And such was his skill at combat as a feral cat that he volunteered himself to our order. He has proven himself willing to take on some more dangerous missions, but he is rash and does not think of the consequences of his actions. We thought bringing him along on this mission would temper him, teach him patience."

Harry was reminded of another black-furred four-legged friend: his godfather Sirius, who could turn into a dog. Splatterpaw would have liked him.

"So, where do I go from here?" said Harry, gingerly reaching for his satchel, which had thankfully been rescued along with him. "How far to Darnassus?"

Malchior shook his head. "I am afraid your journey must take a detour here, human. It is vital that we share this news with the other members of the Cenarion Circle. But we are fortunate; there is a village only a few miles from here, and we can arrange transport from there. Can you walk?"

Harry tentatively took a step or two forward; it hurt, but it wasn't impossible. "I think I can manage."

"There is no time for you to 'manage', friend," said Malchior. "Come."

Harry was only marginally less surprised at seeing the enormous Tauren disappear and a shaggy black bear appearing in his place; apparantly, far apart from the long and arduous process of turning into an Animagus, in this world shapeshifting was like breathing. Indilwen had transformed into what Harry could only guess was a type of purple crow, flapping and hovering in place.

"Ride," cawed Indilwen. She screeched and ascended, flapping her shimmering wings. Harry was in no condition to refuse, and for the second time since he'd arrived in Azeroth, he found himself riding on the back of a creature who most likely would have rather he walked.

They rode along the beach for some time until they came upon the village of Lor'danel, standing resolute at the edge of the Veiled Sea. Lush and verdant, it seemed to Harry that the night elves had worked in harmony with nature and simply grown the buildings from the ground up.

Indilwen led Harry through the village - Malchior had dropped Harry off and would meet up with them when they arrived at their destination - to a platform with a roost of very beautiful, exotic creatures.

"These are hippogryphs," said Indilwen, stroking one. "Majestic, are they not?"

Harry nodded. "I've ridden a hippogryph before, but they didn't look anything like this."

"Oh? Perhaps a different breed?" she inquired, looking through the hippogryphs to find one for Harry.

Harry shook his head, following behind her. "No. Ours are sort of like...well, they're half gryphon and half horse," he tried to explain.

Indilwen cocked her head at Harry. "Intriguing. The dwarves of Wildhammer are renowned for their reverence for gryphons - indeed, it approaches that of the Kaldorei for the hippogryph. Never is one without the other."  
>"But how can these be so different? I mean, where I'm from, a hippogryph is just a gryphon with a horse's hind legs," asked Harry.<p>

Indilwen mulled it over for a moment. "Perhaps, long ago, gryphons and hippogryphs shared a common ancestor. But that would have been before the Sundering, when all of Azeroth was one continent," she answered, settling on a larger hippogryph and plucking a few silver coins from her pouch for the flight master. "And that was tens of thousands of years ago. You have met the Draenei, who are older still. I do not believe your world, such as you know it, is quite so old."

Harry was left to ponder this as he mounted the sleek purple and black creature. It felt somehow familiar, and Harry was glad to have something even vaguely recognizeable, as Indilwen once more turned into a shimmering raven and the hippogryph followed her. The flight, exhilirating as it was, took only a few minutes, flying high over mountains, and Harry found himself wishing it could have lasted a bit longer; flying was as natural to him as breathing. He dismounted in the middle of a wide open glade next to a beautiful lake in the middle of a thick green forest. Malchior was waiting for them as Indilwen resumed her natural form.

"Welcome to Moonglade, human," he said. "The Circle awaits."

They followed a meandering cobblestone path through the woods to a large, open shrine with several other tauren and night elves, speaking in hushed tones and whispers of conversation Harry could barely hear. "...Emerald Dream...other worlds...the human must..." Harry even noticed some worgen, amongst them Splatterpaw, who regarded Harry with a whuff and a sneer. Somewhere in the group came the sound of a voice clearing. The chattering ceased at once, and Harry could see a tall, burly night elf standing in the center of the crowd. He was adorned with a long, green beard, a purple robe and, strangely enough, stag antlers.

"That's Broll Bearmantle," said Indilwen in a low voice. "He works for the benefit of all of Azeroth, and is a hero of the Alliance and a friend to the Horde. Most of us would not be here were it not for him."

Broll spoke in a deep, flowing voice, like a wild river. "Friends," he began. "I thank you for your prompt arrival. Many of you have not spent much time in the Dream of late, and so may be unaware of the dire peril which now threatens us."

He turned his gaze and gestured toward Harry. "We have with us a guest, who brings us knowledge and forewarning. Approach, young human, that all may see and hear you."

Harry looked awkwardly at Indilwen, who motioned for him to step forward. Harry did so reluctantly.

"Erm...hi," said Harry, unsure.

"Good day. Please, tell us your tale. Share with us your quest, that we may guide and aid you," said Broll expectantly.

Harry hesitated, again at a loss for words. How did all these druids know about his mission?

"I...er..." he stammered.

But at that moment, a collective gasp arose from the crowd. All of the druids assembled, even Broll, had fallen to their knees and were completely still. Harry turned, and to his amazement saw that an enormous green dragon, one almost the size of Alexstrasza, had appeared from nowhere. He wondered for a moment if he should bow down, too, when suddenly the dragon disappeared and in its place appeared a beautiful night elf with very long, mossy green hair and dragon horns.

"Ysera," whispered Indilwen. She looked positively terrified, as if the dragon were somehow offended or displeased with her. But the dragon approached Harry, who was still standing, stunned.

"Sleep, children," she intoned in a haunting, dreamy voice that made Harry sleepy. Everyone assembled instantly collapsed, fast asleep.

Ysera turned to Harry. "It is not often I rouse myself from the eternal Dream. But when I shared your vision I had no choice. This is more than a mortal concern and requires more than mortal attention.

"You...you saw my dream?" said Harry, incensed at the invasion of privacy.

"Yes," she replied. "The Emerald Dream is my own domain, of course. It is uncommon for a human to enter the Dream, but then, you are an uncommon human. The voice you heard within was not mine. It was of an Old God, seeding corruption and breeding chaos."

Harry's heart started racing. The Withering was spreading even to dreams? This was happening much too quickly. "I...I don't understand. I thought that was just a nightmare. How do we even fight these Old Gods?"

Ysera paused. "Even now, years after their utter defeat, some of the fanatics of the Twilight Cult - they who once worked in concert with our brother Netharion - would use knowledge of your mission to bring about the destruction of the world. They believe they would be purified and reborn. They are wrong and misguided, but their fervor only serves to make them more dangerous. Though I dearly love the Cenarion Circle, I cannot afford to let them learn of this plan. You have already placed Indilwen, Malchior, and Gerald - Splatterpaw, as he prefers - in grave danger. You must not do so again. They may assist you, but they cannot be allowed to journey with you. Until now, you have been fortunate. Yet even now, fortune itself may turn against you."

Harry was dumbstruck. "But...how am I supposed to collect all the symbols without telling anyone? I'm not even halfway done!"

Ysera sighed. "As our champion, the rules of barter must apply to you as well, Harry. You may think us arrogant for refusing to be in debt to a mortal. Yet it is encoded within our very being that this must not be allowed to happen. We have no name for it, save you may call it the Law of Giving. It is as inflexible as any law of nature - and those are laws which must not be altered, lest life tip the scales of balance."

"What d'you mean?" asked Harry, perplexed.

Ysera continued. "The wild grass grows sweet in the forests and meadows. The timid deer eat the grass. The lone wolf eats the deer. And the wolf becomes the grass at death. Were any of these out of balance - too many wolves, or not enough grass - all three would suffer and eventually perish. So it is with dragonkin. We may bless those with whom we find favor with our protection or our strength for a short time, but it does not last; those who would seek to gain for themselves with this blessing will find themselves cursed instead."

Harry frowned, thoroughly unhappy. He still had to find seven more symbols from the remaining races, and three of those were right in front him, fast asleep; they might as well have been a thousand miles away.

"Do not despair, young human," said Ysera softly, smiling. "As you yet breathe, your quest still bears completing. You are closer to the end than you think."

She blew a tiny breath out and pointed. "Arise."

Harry turned and looked to see Malchior, Indilwen, and Splatterpaw waking up, yawning, and stretching.

As he turned back, Ysera had disappeared as quickly as she had appeared. Harry shrugged and sighed.

"What is the meaning of this?" said Malchior, approaching Harry with Indilwen and Splatterpaw close behind. "Why do the others sleep so?"

Harry quickly explained his meeting with Ysera. Malchior looked thoughtful, Indilwen reverent, and Splatterpaw indifferent.

"The Dream Queen," said Indilwen, awestruck. "And to think, we met her! Saw her! Right here!"

"Harry," said Malchior. "This intercession of Ysera is a portent the likes of which we druids have not known before. In my lifetime, she has always been sleeping, or at best, walking the line between the dreaming and the awake. Things must be more dire than we know. Perhaps it is best that the rest of the Circle is kept ignorant of your plan. Though we all have the best interests of Azeroth at heart, we differ in our methods and manners, and an errant tongue loosened by drink or carelessness may bring ruin."

"Carelessness my left hind paw," sneered Splatterpaw. "Twilight Cultists ain't th' only ones what's interested in th' end o' the world. Some demon or orc or somethin's always out t' cause destruction an' whatnot."

"Be that as it may, Splatterpaw, we have much bigger things to worry about presently," rebuked Malchior.

"We can still help, Harry. What do you need?" asked Indilwen.

Harry inhaled. "Well, as I said earlier, I need something that really represents your race. Something that someone can look at and say, 'Yep, that's definitely from a night elf,' or whatever."

Indilwen looked excited. "Oh! I have just the thing!" She dug into her bag and produced a beautiful set of what looked like wind chimes. A series of richly decorated bronze tubes of varying lengths were connected to a strand of bronze designed to appear as a vine. Harry was impressed; the chimes were delicate, but sturdy, and appeared very old.

"Where did you get this?" he asked, turning the chimes over in his hands. They made a soft tinkling sound, almost like a song, as they fell.

Indilwen shrugged. "Here and there. Assembling lost artifacts of the Kaldorei is a hobby of mine. We are nothing if not patient, and we enjoy seeing the beauty in all things. Some of us are born to be great warriors or guardians; some have a gift for healing; others have talent with craftsmanship. We each recognize our station in life, and this is mine. I was saving it for a gift, but your need is greater than mine. Although...if it is at all possible, I would like to see it returned."

Harry nodded and gently placed it in his own pack. "I'll do what I can."

Malchior, in the meantime, had gone to pick a flower. It was a white, drooping bloom, and gave a sweet smell; it reminded Harry of a lilac, although Malchior had somehow managed to cull the flower with all of its roots intact.

"This is peacebloom," he said, handing the flower to Harry. "We Tauraje are blessed with a gift for cultivating and harvesting herbs without harming the surrounding earth; we try to treat all life with compassion. Peacebloom is used in many potions of healing; it can be fashioned into a soothing incense; and it makes a delicious herbal tea. I am certain that you will find some use for it."

Splatterpaw, still distrustful, sneered at Harry. "Well, mate, 'ere's a treat for ya." He reached two long fingers back into the corner of his mouth, and, before Harry could say anything, yanked a blackened but sharp fang out and offered it to Harry. "It were rotten anyway."

Harry shuddered to think what Hermione might have said at the state of Splatterpaw's teeth, but thinking of Hermione only made him sigh. He took the gift, distasteful as it was, and put it in his pack with the rest of his collection, inwardly pleased at now having completed two-thirds of it.

"A word of caution, young human," said Malchior. "Though our hearts are with you, be on your guard. The Cenarion Circle sets itself aside the conflicts of the Horde and the Alliance. Others of the Horde will not be so courteous. Trolls hate humans on sight and will not hesistate to swing an axe your way if given the chance. And the abominable Forsaken will cooperate only as long as it serves their own interests. The Goblins of the Bilgewater Cartel do precious little that does not involve profit, either in time or in wealth. And the Blood Elves are mistrusted by all - even each other at times."

"You will find most of them in the desert of Tanaris far to the south. The settlement of Gadgetzan is largely neutral, but it is also largely lawless. Be vigilant."

Harry nodded and waved goodbye as he remounted the hippogryph, who was irritated at having been woken from a nap. The old, familiar feeling of flying came rushing back to him as they rose over the mountains, and he was too preoccupied to notice that the druids were suddenly very interested in making sure someone on the ground stayed there. Had he looked back for only a moment, he might have seen Malchior, Indilwen, and Splatterpaw casting some odd sort of green glowing balls of something at an unknown person who was trying very hard to keep up with Harry. The balls turned into roots upon contact, and the unknown person found themselves completely immobilized and infuriated at the interference of the wretched druids. But they had some very pressing questions for their captive, and with the remainder of the Cenarion Circle beginning to awaken, they would get their answers one way or another.


	15. In Which Harry Meets A Goblin

**Author's Note** - Sorry about the delay. My computer died and I couldn't afford a new one (I'm sure you can all relate). Anyway, I'm back to writing now, so updates should be coming much, much faster. Thanks for your patience!

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><p>Harry was parched. The flight on the back of his hippogryph hadn't included meal service, nor had his luggage handling included any complimentary bottles of water, and he had spent the past few hours soaring through a warm sky under a bright sun. At first, he had thoroughly enjoyed the scenery - the lush, verdant forests of - well, wherever he had flown over that had lush, verdant forests; tall, majestic mountains of a rich, red hue; and rolling plains and savannahs populated, by what he could see, mostly by orcs and tauren. But he was beginning to get hot and tired of riding, and he was dying for a drink.<p>

The thought had no sooner crossed his mind than his hippogryph beat its wings and began slowly descending over a path cutting sharply between two jagged peaks. A haze rose above a dense swamp, and Harry began to sweat; he was not accustomed to warm climates. A large village, really a small town with a gleaming white stone tower, welcomed ships into its harbor off to the west, but the hippogryph seemed uninterested, and nosed toward a crudely walled outpost. Harry landed, and a short, green-skinned female, with enormous eyes, a long, sharp nose, and overlarge hands came rushing over to lead the hippogryph to a trough of water.

"Welcome!" she said amiably, with what sounded like a big city accent._ A goblin,_ Harry thought, though only distantly related to the ones from Diagon Alley.

"Er, hello," said Harry, uncertainly. "This isn't Gadgetzan, is it?"

The goblin snickered. "Do ya see a big yellow ocean a' sand? This here's Mudsprocket. How'd ya wind up here? Get off too early?"

Harry wiped his brow. "Er, I was just...thinking I was a bit thirsty. Where can I get something to drink?"

"Drink? Well, ya can always stick yer head in the trough here!" she guffawed, a little louder than Harry thought necessary. "I'm just yankin' ya, kid. Ya want a drink, head to the inn. Watch out for tha big guy, though, he's a big galoot." She pointed to a round building in the center of the outpost and waved Harry off.

Harry made his way into the open doorway in the wooden hut, expecting to see an inn with rooms or at least a bartender pouring drinks. What he saw instead was a huge creature, easily twice his height and ten times his size, with one eye, a white horn, and nothing but a loincloth, sitting on the floor and being yelled at by an unhappy-looking goblin.

"Now look what you've done, Brogg!" shouted the goblin. "Ran off another payin' customer! That's the third one this month!"

The creature, Brogg, stared at the goblin. "Brogg leave if could fit out door," he said at length.

This did nothing to help the poor thing's situation. "I KNOW THAT!" screamed the innkeeper. "You're eating me out of house and home! If it didn't cost more than I can pay to fix the wall I'd push you out myself, you brainless ogre!"

_An ogre?_ thought Harry. _Alexstrasza never mentioned anything about ogres. What else did she forget to tell me?_

Harry tried to slink in unnoticed, but his throat was dry and he had to clear it. The goblin heard him and turned, forgetting Brogg and smiling widely.

"Hey! Welcome to Axle's! What can I get ya?" he said.

Harry sidled up to the bar. "I need something cold and wet."

"Cold and wet, eh? In the middle of a swamp? You some kind of comedian?" sneered the goblin. Harry looked at the goblin, miffed, but the goblin guffawed, slapping a knee. "Ahh, I'm just joshin' ya, kid. Wouldn't be much of an innkeeper if I couldn't pour a tall mug of somethin' cold and wet. Whatcha lookin' for?"

"How about a cider?" Harry suggested.

"One cider, comin' right up. That'll be ten silvers, up front."

Harry dug in his money pouch for the shiny coins and plunked them on the counter. As the goblin poured his drink, Harry had an idea.

"Say, er, I couldn't help but notice that you were having a bit of trouble with that, ah, ogre," he offered, jerking a thumb towards Brogg, who was paying attention to a rather large fly buzzing idly around the inn.

Axle sighed. "Yeah. He came here a while back. He was the last of his clan, ya know. The rest either left town or got eaten by the dragons that took over. He managed to get himself squeezed in, but he can't get back out and the place would fall apart if he tried to break out. I do enough business to keep from goin' under, but the Steamwheedle Cartel ain't exactly jumpin' at the chance to underwrite insurance for a place in the middle of a swamp, ya know?"

Axle finished pouring and handed Harry his drink. Harry nodded and gulped it; it wasn't as fresh as the cider he'd had in Dalaran, but it was cool and delicious all the same.

"What if I could get him out of here?" said Harry.

Axle shook his head. "No offense, kid, but I've had dozens of you adventurer types come through here and he's still here."

Harry took another swig. "I think I have an idea. If I can do it, what would it be worth to you?"

Axle cocked an eyebrow. "If you can do it, kid, name your price."

Harry accepted, draining the last dregs of his cider. He drew his wand, and moments later had Transfigured a tiny sliver of wood sticking out of the bar into a miniature door.

"Nice trick, but that's a little small, don't ya think?" smirked Axle.

"Watch this. _Wingardium Leviosa!"_

The tiny door floated directly over to the open doorway. "_Engorgio!_"

Instantly the door grew to an enormous size, squeezing its way into the doorframe and opening it even wider. Eight, ten, twelve feet high the door grew, pulling the sides of the frame with it, until at last there was a gargantuan entryway with a door, more than large enough for Brogg to fit through.

Harry flicked his wrist, and the door opened. Brogg stared as if he could not believe his good fortune. Dimly, he rubbed his eye, to make sure that what he was seeing was real.

Axle's eyes were wide open in shock. "That's...that's amazing! Hey! Hey, Brogg! Go home!"

"Brogg...leave?" said the ogre. "Not break wall?"

Axle could hardly contain himself. "Yeah! Go on! Go rebuild your clan! Lead it to great honor and...whatever!"

Brogg took a few tentative thundering steps over the threshold, and when the opening didn't close in on him, he nearly sprinted outside, clapping and laughing.

Harry swished his wand; the door shrank and turned back into a splinter, falling to the ground, and the frame returned to its normal size.

"I can't believe it," said Axle, stunned. "He's been here years and nobody's ever thought of that. I've had warriors, mages, druids, even some gnome engineers try to get him out. Now I can finally start making some real money! Anything I can do for you, just let me know!"

Harry finished off his cider and took a deep breath. "Tell me about what makes goblins so unique."

Axle scratched his head. "Well, I ain't ever been much for history, but here goes." H e told Harry about the goblin culture, how they had once been dimwitted slaves to the trolls, until the mysterious substance they were forced to mine made them intelligent enough to overthrow their oppressors and how they soon set themselves up as trade princes, bartering with both Horde and Alliance. "Mind you, some cartels would just as soon you guys just offed each other, but me, as long as the coins keep comin' I don't much care who pays me."

Harry took it all in. "So...most goblins care about money? The gob-" Harry coughed as he caught himself in the nick of time, about to say _The goblins I know are like that, too._

Axle snickered. "Money makes the world go 'round. Here, catch," he said, sliding a gold coin out from under his counter and tossing it to Harry. Harry just managed to grab it in midair. It was just like any other gold coin he had in his coin pouch, although much older and more worn.

Harry tried to hide his disappointment; certainly one more gold coin wasn't going to get him much more than what he already had.

Axle scowled at Harry's expression. "Don't knock it, kid. That coin's the first one I made a profit with way back when. Took me all kinds of bargains to move this place from Ratchet. Any fool can buy low and sell high, but when a goblin is finally out of debt, and pays back all his favors, and doesn't owe anyone anything but his own ambition - that's when a goblin gets respect, yanno? Gotta look out for number one."

Harry nodded, suddenly lost in thought. Ambition. Resourcefulness. Cunning. The goblins would definitely belong in Slytherin, he thought, and thinking of Slytherin made him think of Hogwarts, and that made him think of Ron and Hermione and Ginny. Snapping back to reality, Harry opened his satchel and added the gold coin to his cache of relics.

"Thanks," said Harry. He glanced out the door and noticed that the sun was already getting pretty low. Had he really been flying that long? He couldn't have been in the bar more than ten minutes.

Axle noticed him looking. "It's getting pretty late, chum. Tell ya what - I'm going to throw open the doors tonight, and-"

Harry half-smiled. "Open the doors?" he smirked.

"Ahh, you know what I mean. If you need a place to sleep, there's a few rooms up top. Take one. On the house. Then in the morning, I'll help you get wherever you're going, and then we'll be even."

"Works for me," said Harry, by now getting a bit hungry. "Any chance of something to eat?"

Axle nodded. "Yeah, I'll whip up somethin' for the dinner crowd. Not for nothin', but goblins are some of the best cooks around. I got a recipe for a swamp stew that - well, better not ruin the surprise. By the way, what's your name, kid?"

"Harry. Harry Potter," said Harry, looking up the stairs at some shabby rooms. _Well, beggars can't be choosers_, he thought, bemused. Yet had Harry been paying just a little bit more attention, he would have seen Axle do the slightest of double takes at the mention of Harry's name. As it was, Harry was busying himself watching a couple of new patrons, who had wandered in after the ogre had run off skipping, and they were enjoying themselves at Axle's bar.

Axle, true to his word, served a steaming bowl of an odd-tasting but very filling stew for dinner, and after a few helpings and a giant tankard of cider, Harry was feeling sated. He watched some of the goblins at a table on the far right play cards, and it was almost funny - all but one of them were cheating, and the one who wasn't was the one who kept winning.

Harry stifled a yawn. The humidity of the swamp was still clinging to him like a Permanent Sticking Charm, but the night air was much cooler and refreshing, and Harry was getting drowsy. Nodding to Axle, he made his way up the stairs, settled down on the rough but moderately clean bed, and drifted off to an uneasy but uneventful sleep.


	16. In Which Harry Meets A Blood Elf

**Author's Note:** This chapter is a little bit longer than the others, mainly because a lot of you have been clamoring for Harry to get involved with someone other than, y'know, his WIFE, the woman who is PERFECT for him, who can keep him GROUNDED and IN CONTROL. Well, ask and ye shall receive! Harry will definitely be tempted. He may be committed to Ginny, but he's also human. Will he give in, or will his resolve hold? Find out...

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><p>Harry woke early the following morning, before the sun had done much more than peek over the horizon. He was not looking forward to spending any more time in the muggy swamp than he had to, so he collected his things, put on his glasses, and trudged down the stairs in search of Axle.<p>

Axle was sweeping the inn when he spotted Harry. "Hey, kid! Last night was great!" he beamed. "First time I've been this busy in ages. I'll be rakin' in the cash from now on!"

Harry nodded, still waking up. "You said something last night about helping me on my way?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

Axle motioned Harry over and led him to a room in the back. There was some sort of device erected there, one odd glowing disk on the floor and another supported by a myriad of gears, cogs, pistons, and other mechanical devices, hanging some ten feet above.

"This is the Dimensional Ripper, best teleporter in the world. We, ah, 'borrowed' the Ultrasafe Transporter design from the gnomes, then made it better, like we always do. Get them to do the dirty work, then take it over and market it ourselves. I use it to send some of the good stuff to my cousins when I get the chance. Bad thing is, it's one way - gotta get a license to make it two-way. Big sanctions for operatin' without a license and I ain't got the gold for that. Maybe now the bar's busy I can get one, though."

Harry looked at it. It didn't look ultrasafe - it looked downright unsteady. But if it worked, it worked, and that was all that mattered.

"Can you send things anywhere?" said Harry, inspecting the device.

"Nah. Just the places that have receivers. All the Steamwheedle towns - Ratchet, Gagetzan, Everlook, and Booty Bay," said Axle.

Harry's ears perked up. "Can you get me to Gadgetzan?"

Axle nodded. "Sure thing, friend!" He fiddled with some dials and the thing powered on, making a loud whirring noise, with a few clanks and rattles for good measure.

Harry eyed the machine with distrust. "This doesn't look too safe," he said suspiciously.

"This thing's got a ninety-four percent success rate," answered Axle. "Come on, it'll be fine!"

Harry, still not too reassured, tentatively stepped forward onto the transporter. "Alright, then, if you say so," he said.

Axle pressed a big red button. Suddenly, the machine whined and screamed. Harry had no time to jump off, though, as the transporter kicked in, and Harry was gone in a brilliant flash of light.

"Feel bad for the poor sap," said Axle, dismayed. "Didn't want to have to do that to him, he was a nice kid."

A dark, swirling entity materialized from nowhere. It had no real form, except as a nearly invisible grey mist.

"Where did you send him?" it demanded, in a harsh, steely voice that sent shivers down Axle's spine.

"W-Winterspring," stammered Axle. "He'll freeze to death or get eaten by a bear before anyone finds him out there."

"FOOL!" roared the entity. "You should have sent him to the bottom of the ocean! He cannot be allowed to know the secret!"

Axle cringed, expecting the worst, but the entity simply disappeared.

Harry heard an odd crunching sound below his feet, and noticed they were getting wet. He saw a sea of white instead of yellow, and felt terribly cold. He immediately knew he was not in the humid swamp he had just left, nor was he in the pale, hot desert he was supposed to be in. All around him was a blanket of pure, frozen snow, not the soft, fresh, powdery stuff that would blow away or melt in a few hours or a day, but the real, hard, packed snow of a climate that seldom saw a spring thaw. Great, thought Harry. I'm in the six percent failure rate. He looked around wildly for any sign of civilization, any houses or paths or anything, but there were only trees.

Harry took a deep breath, and felt a dozen tiny knives pierce his lungs. "Hello!" he shouted, his voice echoing across the field of snow, but there was no reply. He pulled out his wand and started casting as many directional spells as he could.

"_Homenum locanto_!" No response; there were no humans for miles.

"Point me!" His wand spun around and dutifully pointed in a direction he supposed might have been north, but without a reference point, he had no way of knowing if it was the right way to go; for all he knew he was on some island in the middle of the Arctic Ocean.

"_Ignis_!" A breath of fire issued forth from his wand, and he twirled it in a circle to melt the snow around him. It worked, at first; some of the snow did melt a little, but somehow, either due to some magic or just because the snow was that deep, as soon as he stopped moving his wand the melted snow refroze almost instantly. Resolvedly, he set off in the direction his wand was pointing, searching for anything he could find - shelter, food, any signs of life. It was several hours later when Harry finally paused. He had been getting wetter by the minute, and he was thankful that the sun, tiny and cool as it was in this frozen wasteland, was shining bright enough to prevent any snow from falling. An odd looking rock - no, it was definitely a hill - no, a cave set into a hill pierced an otherwise desolate landscape. _Any port in a storm_, thought Harry, and he slowly trudged his way into it.

The cave was tall, but not deep. The mouth gaped open in a permanent state of shock, icicles hanging down like so many teeth, and Harry noticed, for the first time, some signs of life other than himself. A pile of old spoor lay near the doorstep, and a set of enormous tracks, easily large enough to fit both of his feet, looked deep and frozen. Obviously this cave was used by some sort of giant, though Harry was not too anxious to discover what kind. It looked deserted enough, though, and Harry set about to conjuring a fire to warm himself.

Moments later, a tiny but warm fire was going well, and the icicles on the front of the cave mouth were starting to melt, reminding Harry of a drooling, snarling beast. The effect really was quite realistic; Harry though he could almost hear the cave roar. It wasn't until he had heard it two more times that Harry felt that maybe it wasn't just his imagination. He felt the thunderous stomp of some gigantic beast coming closer, and he was all set to hex the bear or the moose or whatever it was into leaving him alone.

But it wasn't a wild animal that was bounding over snowdrifts on two feet and angrily charging towards him like a juggernaut. It was a massive, shaggy-haired humanoid, over eight feet tall and at least a thousand pounds of pissed off teeth, horns and fur. Its skin was a dark blue, like the ice in the cave, and its fur was a dingy white. Enormous hands were clenched in furious fists. Two long bull's horns extended from its forehead, curved and deadly. It was a monstrosity, and at first Harry thought the cold must have been playing tricks on him, making him see strange things that weren't there.

But the thing kept on coming, feet pounding, roaring and snapping, eyes black and nostrils flaring in anger. Harry thought he might want to do something, and soon.

"_Impedimenta_!" shouted Harry, drawing his wand and hoping to slow the beast down, but it shrugged off his spell and charged even faster.

"_Incarcerous_!" Ropes flew around the monster's gargantuan hands, but it broke them with ease. The monster was nearly at the entrance to the cave now, and Harry was about to be trapped.

"_Infernus_!" Flames spewed out of Harry's wand like a whip, and at this the creature seemed to pause. It still snarled and pounded on its chest like a gorilla, but evidently the fire was enough to cow it.

"I'm not going to hurt you," shouted Harry, snapping the firewhip to keep the thing from encroaching any closer, "I just needed a shelter."

He slowly edged his way out of the cavern, keeping the fire between the angry beast and himself. The beast stared at Harry, not wanting to give any ground, but it reluctantly allowed him to pass back out into the cold.  
>The great beast's back was turned as Harry turned to make a break for it, but from out of nowhere he heard a light voice mutter some words in a language he did not recognize, a low growl followed by a high yip, and an unfamiliar sequence of *creak* <em>-zing-<em> ***thwick***.

The creature roared in agony, an arrow haft protruding from its back where none had been only seconds before. It turned and focused on Harry, seeking to avenge this most heinous of wrongdoings, but Harry could only watch as another arrow zoomed by and lodged itself in the monster's chest, followed by another, and another.

The arrows were not the only threat to the creature. An enormous red fox was bounding over the snow, growling, and as soon as it got close enough it launched itself directly at the beast, jaws open wide. Arrows continued to fly, and the poor beast found itself bleeding profusely before the fox mercifully tore out its throat and ended its agony.

Harry stared at the grisly scene, feeling a pang of remorse; surely the creature was only defending its territory and didn't have to die. He stared at the unknown assailant, who was walking towards him, almost swaggering.

To Harry's surprise, the figure opened their helm and revealed a woman. She was a fair-skinned elf, though markedly different than the one he had met in Dalaran. Her long red hair was held back under the helm, and she was much more lithe and toned; her arms bore the muscles of one who practiced a physical art. Sharp, green eyes returned Harry's gaze, and the elf gave him an obligatory nod as she passed him.

"I suppose 'thanks' would be out of the question," she said snidely.

Harry scowled as she bent to retrieve some of her arrows from the fallen beast. "Thanks? Thanks for killing that helpless thing? Yeah, you're right, it would be," shot back Harry.

"Helpless? A yeti? You must be dumber than you look," she said, working a particularly deep arrow back and forth to dislodge it. "Are you some sort of idiot? What are you doing out here, anyway?"

"I, er...got lost," said Harry, feeling mortified. "What's it to you?"

The elf reached to grab the last arrow, but it was too deep and the shaft snapped. She shrugged and put the rest of them back in her quiver. She stood up and faced Harry, looking him up and down, sneering. "Yeah. Definitely an idiot, even for a human. And a mage at that. I thought you mages were supposed to be intelligent. What happened? Use the wrong rune for your portal spell?"

Harry was incensed. Who was this strange elf woman to be insulting him out of nowhere, after she'd just brutally slaughtered a yeti for no good reason?

"It's none of your business," Harry said weakly. The elf woman sneered and said nothing else, but reached to her side and drew a small but sharp curved blade. She knelt down beside the corpse, made a few signs, and, to Harry's disgust, began slicing the yeti's skin off.

"Hey, you," said the elf after a moment. "Make yourself useful and restart that fire you had going. My flint's wet and won't spark."

Harry scowled at her indignantly, but thought she might have a point. But he was frustrated with the arrogant woman and he wasn't about to do her any favors.

"No," he said. "Not unless you give me something in return."

The elf frowned and stood up. "Isn't saving your life enough? That yeti would have torn you limb from limb," she said.

"I had it under control, until you came along and shot it in the back," replied Harry.

"Of course I shot it in the back. If I had waited until it had turned around, it would - "

"Enough!" said Harry. "I don't care! I'm not lighting that fire unless you agree to something first!"

"And what," said the elf woman, closing in on him, "might that be?"

Harry stood his ground, refusing to flinch. "Your name. I want your name."

She smiled. "Oh, this is going to be _fun_."

The fire was roaring along nicely, and the elf woman had introduced herself as Raewen Sunseeker. A brief history of the blood elves followed; seeking refuge from the racist human commander of Lordaeron during the Third War, they had allied themselves with the Horde, and had had a tenuous relationship ever since. The Sin'dorei were related to the night elves, though distantly, and they were as different as night and day - literally, she explained, as the blood elves name for themselves, Sin'dorei, meant "children of the sun".

"Here," she said, tossing him part of the fur as a sort of blanket. The elf obviously had some skill with the knife; the amount of fur she had pulled off in one fell swoop appeared to have come from several yetis at once. "Warm up, and then if you can remember your own name without drooling maybe you can tell me what you were doing here."

Harry was not at all inclined to wear the skin of a dead animal, but changed his mind almost immediately; the yeti's fur was soft and warm. He sighed. "I'm Harry Potter. If you must know, some goblin's transporter malfunctioned. I was supposed to be going to Gadgetzan and wound up here. Where is this place, anyway?"

"You're in Winterspring, you idiot. Don't you have a compass or a map? How did you manage to graduate your academy? Stormwind must be desparate for mages if they let you in."

This elf woman was definitely beginning to wear on his nerves. More to hide his irritation than anything, he opened his sack, and, feeling monumentally stupid for having forgotten it, drew out the atlas that Doruu had given him. Evidently either the sack or the book itself were waterproof, and he made a mental note to kick himself in the shins later for not having realized it; he had thought the book would have certainly been destroyed in the water. He turned to the last part of the book, flipped a few pages, and found, just as brightly as before, a glowing yellow sigil pulsing on the page marked "Winterspring". He saw what looked like an outpost or village not too far to the northwest; perhaps there he could arrange for some sort of transportation out of here.

"Thought as much," said Raewen, noticing his atlas and gently stroking long, spindly fingers through the fox's bushy fur as it lay curled around her feet. "Maybe you're not as dumb as you look. Got a long way to go, though."

"So what's your story, then?" said Harry, packing away the atlas. "D'you go around killing innocent creatures for fun, or is it your day job?"

"Fun? By the Sunwell, no, it's not fun. I hunt for the _thrill_. Ages ago, we used to gather packs of dogs to hunt a lone fox. Imagine! A single fox against twenty or thirty dogs. It would have stood no chance. Now, it's the fox's turn." She reached into a small black bag and produced a black powder. She threw it on the fire, and it roared and flumed even higher.

"A hunter and her companion have a bond not unlike a parent and child, although an animal is much easier to train." She patted the fox, and it put its head down between its paws, yawning. "A hunter exists alongside nature, to interweave with it, not to overwhelm it like a swarm of locusts, or to become part of it like a tree. You must be very careful where you tread. If your footfalls are too heavy, your quarry will sense you and flee. But if you are too light and take too long, your quarry will escape and you will have wasted your time."  
>Harry nodded, taking it all in. It sounded like the elf woman had a similar viewpoint to the night elves about nature, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that she was hunting for sport, not survival. The desiccated carcass of the yeti was right where it had fallen, raw and meaty. Indilwen never would have let it go to waste. She would have made certain that killing it was the only option, and that all of its parts were used for something - its horns for a powder for a potion or elixir, clothing from its fur, provisions from its meat, whatever. He wanted to change the subject, but right then his stomach rumbled; last night's dinner was seeming farther and farther away. Raewen obviously heard it.<p>

"Sounds like someone's tummy is grumbling," she said, patronizingly.

"Yeah, well..." Harry didn't really have a response. He wasn't cold anymore, but he was still irritated, and being hungry didn't help matters.

"Here," she said, throwing him a small wrapped package. He opened it to find a small loaf of bread and a cask of water. "We are not overly compassionate by nature, Harry Potter, but neither are we unnecessarily cruel."

"Thanks," he said grudgingly. The bread was fairly good, tasting somewhat spicy, and he quickly finished the loaf, washing it down with the cool, clear water.

"Now then," said Raewen, after they had both finished eating. "Let's get down to business, shall we?" A sly smile crossed her lips.

"Business?" said Harry, apprehensively. "What...what sort of business are you talking about?"

"Don't be coy," she said, drawing closer to him. "We're all alone out here. You're a male. I'm a female. You know what I want," She was almost next to him, crawling along the fur towards him, sexy and sultry.

"You called me an idiot," said Harry, rebuffing her.

"Oh, pooh. That was just playful banter, darling. Wouldn't want you thinking I was -too- easy, would I?" She turned over on her back so that she was looking up at him, stretching her arms up at him.

He had to admit, she was quite beautiful, green eyes shining in a way Ginny's never could, and part of him - one part, anyway - was feeling tempted. But he was nothing if not dedicated to his wife. Still, there might be something he could get out of it.

"Look, I, er, have someone already," said Harry, trying to get away but finding no room against the inside of the cave.

"That's never stopped me before," she said. She was already removing her armor, revealing a skimpy set of underthings.

"Okay, wait, I - er - I can offer you something else," he said quickly. But she was having none of it.

"There's nothing else I want, silly human. I've been wandering for a long time now, and I'm feeling...lonesome," she teased, removing the last of her armor.

She traced a path with one finger up Harry's robes, and despite himself he felt a familiar sensation stirring.

"Okay, listen, I - okay. What if I gave you something that was like you were - with me, only it wasn't me?"

"What? You have a twin brother in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?" she said coquettishly.

"No, okay, here, look. I'll promise to do this - this - whatever, if you promise me something in return," he blurted.

"Mmm, I like where this is going," she purred. "Tell me more."

"My friend taught me this spell that gives you a daydream. I just need a scrap of parchment and a quill," explained Harry.

Raewen sat up, pouting. "A daydream? But that isn't the same thing at all!"

"No, you're right. It's _better_. Think about it. I could be a...a pirate captain, and you're the buxom cabin wench. Or I could be a...a slave in an arena, trying to win your favor and earn my freedom! Or a prisoner in a dungeon and you're the jailer!" Harry was earnestly trying to convince her, and he thought he could see her mulling it over behind those dazzling green eyes.

"Hmmm. Would it still feel real? I'd still get...satisfied?" She drew out the pause between her last two words breathily, and Harry had to work hard to remind himself that he had taken a vow of lifetime commitment to his wife.

"As real as...as me," said Harry, his voice cracking.

"And what exactly would you want in exchange for this...fantasy?" she hummed, and Harry swore he saw her buck just a little, as if pressing against an invisble lover.

Harry regained his composure enough to explain. She blinked at him once, then smiled.

"Harry Potter, you have a deal."


	17. In Which Harry Has Another Dream

**A/N**: There's only a certain amount of smut allowable here, and I'm not that good at writing it anyway, so a good portion of this chapter had to be cut for content, which is why it's a bit shorter. I'm aiming to have this completed by the time Mists of Pandaria drops, which means I don't have nearly as long as I thought I did, so I'm going to have to get on the ball. Only two more races left to meet, and then...a HUGE surprise. Warning: The end of this chapter bears a spoiler, so be careful if you don't want it ruined. On with the story!

* * *

><p>Harry sat by the fire, idly fingering the small token Raewen had given him as part of their deal. It was a spent arcane crystal, having housed a supply of magical energy in case her need to consume magic was too much to bear; along with an innate skill for manipulating the ebb and flow of magic, Raewen had explained, the Sin'dorei had developed an addiction to magic and had to draw upon it periodically or else go insane.<p>

She was evidently enjoying herself thoroughly in the fantasy, as now and again she would emit a low whimper or a soft giggle. Harry yawned; it was still early in the afternoon, he supposed, but the heat was nice and the fur he was wrapped in was warm and comforting. He tried to keep himself awake long enough for Raewen to finish her daydream, but he found himself unable to keep his eyes open and soon he was drifting off to sleep.

He jerked awake, sure he had only dozed off for a few seconds, to find himself stripped down to nothing and chained to the wall of a cold, drafty dungeon. He had nothing on him: no bag, no wand, not even his glasses. He was acutely aware that he was in some degree of pain, and one look in front of him told him why. Raewen was standing in front of him, fully clad in black leather stretched tight across her chest and hips. She was wielding some sort of instrument of torture, with a leather handle and a long, funneled leather strap, and she was stroking and stretching it languidly.

"Mmm, you don't like my dragon tongue, do you? You want the terrible pain to stop, don't you?" she mewled, pacing back and forth in front of him.

"Raewen, ple-" *SNAP* She drew the dragon tongue across his bare chest, and he winced, feeling the sting.

"Prisoners do not speak unless spoken to!" she snapped. "Furthermore, you will refer to me as Mistress Raewen, is that clear?"

"Hold on, I have-" *SNAP* Harry stifled a yelp, and Raewen smiled wickedly.

"Would you prefer I get the gag?" she sneered.

'No, please-" Harry said quickly, but Raewen cracked the dragon tongue again, in the same place, and it was all he could do not to cry. "The beatings will continue until morale improves," she snickered. "Are you ready to give up and give me what I want, or do you still need...convincing?"

Harry shook his head, defeated. "I'll do it," he said weakly. Raewen smiled and began taking off her clothes. "I knew you'd see it my way." In a moment, she was just as naked as he was, and Harry's body responded against his will. Raewen noticed Harry's arousal and grinned.

"Looks like someone's glad you decided not to hold out any more." She pushed Harry to the ground forcefully and straddled him. Harry grimaced and braced himself for the impending act, certain he would never forgive himself.

* * *

><p>Raewen shuddered and squealed, her long red hair drenched in sweat, as she collapsed on the ground next to Harry. "Your mistress is pleased, prisoner," she sighed, rubbing a hand over his chest. "Will you be up for another soon, or should I get the toys back out?"<p>

"Miss- Mistress Raewen, please stop," said Harry. "This isn't the fantasy anymore."

Raewen sat up. "What are you talking about, prisoner?" she asked.

"I-I don't know what's going on, but I..I think I'm in your daydream," he explained.

Raewen studied him fiercely, then crossed her arms. "Oh, pooh!" she pouted. "And I was just getting started."

"I tried to-" started Harry, but he was interrupted by the unexpected arrival of another dungeon master. Seemingly out of nowhere, dressed in the same black leather Raewen had been wearing and holding a lethal-looking whip, was Hermione.

"Her...Hermione? Is that you?" said Harry, squinting.

"Of course, Harry," she said coyly. Harry was taken aback; this was completely out of character for the Hermione he knew and loved. From what Ron had told him, Hermione would never have considered something like this.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" demanded Raewen, scrambling to get dressed.

"I'm Harry's best friend, and I've come to tell him something very important," answered Hermione. "I want to make love to him, and this is something I know he'll enjoy."

Harry tried to stand, but remembered he was naked, also, and did his level best to cover up. "What are you talking about?"

A sudden flash, and Ginny appeared next to Hermione, holding a cat-o'-nine-tails and wearing the same black leather as Hermione and Raewen. She smiled at Hermione, who returned her grin and leaned over to give the redhead a long, sensuous kiss.

"Isn't it obvious, Harry?" said Ginny, after her lips had parted from Hermione's. "We're fulfilling your fantasy."

Harry was shocked; certainly in his younger years while alone he might have fantasized about a scene similar to this unfolding, but he never would have admitted it to anyone, certainly not either of them. Hermione and Ginny were grinning and beginning to undress each other, and Harry, despite himself, felt himself stirring again.

"Oooh, looks like someone's getting turned on," said Raewen with a wink. "And they look like they're having lots of fun. Mind if I join in?" she purred, joining the girls. Moments later, all three women were naked, kissing, touching, rubbing each other, and Harry was nearly beside himself with shame at letting himself be aroused.

"Let's loosen those chains, shall we?" said Raewen, bending over to fumble around in her leather suit for her key. As she did so, Hermione seized the opportunity to smack Raewen's bare butt. "Oooh!" she giggled. "Your friends are going to have to watch themselves, Harry, or they'll be next."

She fished the key out and started to unlock the chain around his left hand. To Harry's horror, Raewen's head had suddenly been replaced with an unimaginably black sphere, an orb of blackest void. Swirling shapes, too vague to make out anything distinct, appeared at the surface where her face should have been. Nobody else seemed to notice, not even Raewen herself, as she continued unlocking his chains.

"As your chains are rent, so too shall the bindings of reality be broken," she said, in a hollow voice that did not sound like her at all.

Harry did a double take and had a flash of realization. This was just like the Emerald Dream, where someone or some_thing_ was using his innermost thoughts and desires - his physical needs, his lifelong dreams, and everything in between - against him. _This has to stop right now_, he thought.

"No," said Harry. "They won't."

Raewen stopped unlocking his chains. "No?" she said. "Incomprehension?"

"Negation," retorted Harry. "I will not allow it."

"Permission is not necessary, Harry Potter. It will be so."

"It will not," he said, and a flood of willpower surged through him like lightning. He yanked the chains from the wall with ease.

"You are not real," said Harry, furious. Instantly Raewen and her tight leather suit vanished, along with her dragon tongue, leaving nothing behind but a faint smell of ozone.

"Neither are you," he said, pointing at Hermione and Ginny, who disappeared just as quickly. "This whole dream is just an illusion, and I'm waking up. Now!"

Harry's eyes fluttered open, and he woke up, breathless. It took him a few moments to collect himself; the nightmare was still fresh and nearly real in his mind. He was still in the cave, but he was alone; Raewen and her fox had long since gone. The fire was still flickering, and she had been kind enough to leave him the fur, but it was later in the day than he wanted it to be, and if he wanted to reach civilization by nightfall he had to get moving. He wrapped himself up in the warm fur as best as he could, took another look at his atlas to get his bearings, and marched out of the cave, headed to Everlook.

* * *

><p>SPOILER: Are you sure you're ready to be spoiled?<p>

Really?

Quite sure?

Okay, then...

Keep reading for it...

You're almost there...

Here it comes...

SPOILER: Harry is going on a raid. Stay tuned!


	18. In Which Harry Meets A Troll

Harry sighed, his frustration mounting. He had found the road to Everlook and trudged his way on the snowy path to reach the town just as the sun was setting and the air was beginning to get chilly. The inn was sparsely outfitted, but warm enough, particularly with his new fur cloak, and he had slept quite soundly.

His immediate irritation stemmed from his attempts to secure a flight out of Everlook; the night elf flightmaster, Maethyra, had no more mounts available. She apologized and told him that her last two hippogryphs had left the previous night, and would be returning some time later.

"Great," muttered Harry. "So much for that idea."

"If I may offer some advice, friend?" said the night elf.

"What, you have a magic teleporter in your pocket?" snapped Harry, his patience wearing thin.

The night elf looked a bit perplexed, but shrugged it off. "Typically, I would not suggest this, but you appear to be in some urgency." She stepped closer to Harry and lowered her voice. "Talk to Yugrek, the orc who keeps the wind riders," she said, pointing to the other side of the village. "You'll have to cross his palm with a bit of gold, but you may be able to persuade him to get you to a neutral ground. Perhaps you may board a boat or a zeppelin from Ratchet."

Harry calmed down a bit, thankful for the advice, and approached the orc. He had to stop midway, however, when a disgusting looking person crossed his path.

She vaguely resembled a woman, though she was far from human. She was outfitted in dark black platemail armor, and she was wielding a wicked-looking black blade, glowing red and dripping with whatever macabre energy it possessed. Harry's heart skipped a beat when he saw nothing but bones for arms and legs. Her skin was green and mushy, and she reeked of decay; it was as if she had risen from the dead.

"MOVE!" she screamed, in an unearthly voice, shoving Harry aside with a bony hand. As she did so, Harry noticed with disgust that a single gruesome knucklebone had remained on his robe. He started to brush it off, then stopped with a sudden thought; the female was obviously a Forsaken, and nothing said 'dead-returned-to-life' like a bone. Gingerly, he removed the bone and placed it in his sack, and hurried to find Yugrek.

Yugrek was an older orc, Harry guessed from the orc's grey beard, and was busy tending to a post with an odd-looking sort of flying lion with horns and a scorpion's tail.

"Er, hello," he said tentatively.

"Mok'ra!" came the reply. "See night elf, other side." He vaguely waved in the opposite direction and continued tending to the wind rider.

"I did already. She doesn't have any more mounts right now and I need to leave here right away," Harry rattled off, growing more and more impatient.

"Not my problem," sneered Yugrek. "I can make it worth your while," offered Harry, jingling his coin purse.  
>Yugrek's ears perked up. He looked around wildly to make sure nobody else was around. "If Horde find out Yugrek give flight to human, Yugrek lose flightmaster license. Yugrek ruined. If Yugrek life ruined, human life ruined!"<p>

"I'm willing to risk it," said Harry.

Yugrek shook his head. "Yugrek not. Have wife and younglings."

Harry sighed, exasperated. He was just about to dump out all his gold and throw it at the orc, when another customer approached.

Harry was beginning to get used to the myriad of strange and bizarre creatures inhabiting the world of Azeroth, but the one that was striding up to him and Yugrek was one of the strangest he had yet seen. A large troll, with light blue skin, two enormous elephantine tusks, and a magenta mohawk was walking with a hunch in his back, though it seemed to be his natural posture; he glided through the snow with grace and poise. Despite the troll's ease of movement, he still towered over Harry by at least a food, and Harry was on his guard.

"Ey, mon," said the troll. "Joo be wantin' a flyride outta heah, joo be jawin' wid' da night elf ovah yon," he explained, pointing again in Maethyra's direction.

Harry, despite himself, rolled his eyes. "She's all out of rides and I can't wait. How else can I leave? Does someone have a horse or something I can rent?"

Both the troll and the orc suddenly burst out laughing, in enormous guffaws, and Harry felt humiliated. "A horse? In dis clime, mon? Horse wouldda froze twice ovah already. You be ridin' a horsicle!" he laughed.

The orc and the troll suddenly began speaking in a harsh, guttural language that made Harry's skin crawl. The troll sized Harry up and nodded.

"Yugrek be sayin' joo be wantin' ta ride a windrider, yah? But if someone see a human flyin' atop one, dey t'inkin' joo steals it, make trouble fo' me fren', more fo' joo, eh? But if joo be ridin' behind someone a da Horde, den dey be t'inkin you be a prisoner, yah? I be willin' ta play me part if ya pay Yugrek double de rate. For both us ride."

Harry nodded and counted out a few gold coins. "Done. Let's go."

* * *

><p>"I be headed ta Feralas, meself," said the troll, whose name was Jinju, a few moments after they had taken off and had levelled out into a steady pace. "De closest place for ya be takin' ya leave be Ratchet. De goblins dere work fo' both de Horde an' de Alliance. Mebbe ask questions, mebbe not. Bettah dan me take ya ta Orgrimmar, yah?" He chuckled, and Harry's unease abated. "Not too far, mebbe we share stories, eh?"<p>

Harry inhaled deeply. The troll seemed polite enough, and he was one of the last remaining races he needed to befriend. He explained his story as well as he could, and the troll offered him his own take on things.

"Me people be at all corners o' de world. Mebbe distant cousin wit' de night elf, mebbe not. Troll live t'ousands o' years, t'inkin' we big an' bad, den de night elf crush us like ants. Now de tribes be split apart, and dey be warrin' wit' everyt'in what ain't dem, an' even sometime what be. De Darkspears - me own tribe - been aimin' fo' peace long time, but de odder tribes be blinded by fury an' greed an' it not goin' so well. Got to make dem see, if we don' have peace, ain't gon' be no trolls left."

Harry nodded thoughtfully; this was a theme he understood all too well. "Why not have a meeting with one representative from each...er...tribe?"

"Joo mean a council o' elders? We done tried dat. Couldn't none a' dem quit dey arguin' wid each odder."  
>"Alrgiht, then. Have you tried just asking them what they want?"<p>

"What dey want? Dey all want de same t'ing. Dey want control o' de world like what we had so long ago. An' dey don't want ta share, not even wid odder tribes, an' 'specially not wit' de Horde. Dey don't see dat if it not be for de Horde, we be long gone by now," said Jinju.

Harry thought for a few minutes. "I think I might have a solution for you. If you can accept this, could I get a favor in return?"

"Jinju be listenin'," said the troll.

"Alright. I heard trolls like drums and dancing," started Harry. "Do you do any sports or games?" "If de mood be right, mon."

"Okay. Starting this year, or maybe next, have each...er...tribe send their best athletes to compete in a big tournament of champions. And not just simple running and swimming, either. Have lots of events with lots of competitors. High jumps and javelin throws and a relay race and archery-"

"Ha!" interrupted Jinju. "Everybody know ain't nuttin' come closah den a Troll and him bow. We take to dem like de fish to de watah."

"Anyway," continued Harry, "The top three winners of each event win medals, gold, silver, and bronze. Each tribe gets to choose judges, too, for each of the events, and each of you votes on where it will be held, and in two years do it again. Get everyone in the spirit of competition."

Jinju frowned. "Fun an' games got dey place, mon, but what be de point o' all dis? How dis gon' stop de tribes from warrin'?"

"Well, whichever tribe wins the most medals will prove that they're the most worthy tribe, and they'll be allowed to speak at your council. And they'll also get some sort of tribute from the other tribes. Food or gems or something. That should inspire the other tribes to do better at the next tournament, right? If they see that the winning tribe gets things they wouldn't get otherwise, they'll stop fighting against each other and start trying to be better than all the other tribes."

"Jinju like de sound of dis more an' more," smiled the troll, showing his tusks.

"It's a great honor, you know? To represent your home tribe, to win a gold medal and prove that you're the best...er, troll, in the world, right? Everyone will talk about your skills for years."

"Only two yeahs, joo said."

Harry nodded. "Then you get to do it again, but for other events. Winter sports."

Jinju shivered. "Ooh, no, mon! Me tribe be islandahs. We don' go for none o' dat."

Harry shrugged. "Alright, in that case, every four years. That's enough time for everyone to train their skills up to compete."

Jinju nodded, deep in thought. "What do we be callin dese games, mon?"

Harry grinned. "I have the perfect name."

* * *

><p>The windrider screeched loudly, jarring Harry, as it slowly descended into a small but bustling port town. It landed, and Harry and Jinju quickly dismounted. A lone goblin bruiser noticed them, but did not approach, and Harry inwardly breathed a sigh of relief.<p>

Jinju turned to Harry. "Jinju been t'inkin', and joo made a mighty fine offah," said Jinju. "Some o' me bruddahs, dey not so keen on humans. In fact, dey be killin' ya on sight. But Jinju know a t'ing o' two. Been 'round de world, seen many t'ings. De spirits o' de ancestors done blessed Jinju wid a open mind an' a curious eye."

"Joo offah Jinju dis new t'ing, for him gon' go share wid de odder tribes. It be good idea, and Jinju willin ta try anythin' if it mebbe bring de tribes togedder. But Jinju don't owe joo a t'ing. Jinju did no ask fo' joo help. Jinju make you deal for de ride, and Jinju share him story ta pass de time."

Harry was incensed, and started to protest, but Jinju held up an enormous hand to stop him. "Calm yaself! Jinju say he not /owe/ joo a t'ing, but dat don't mean he not gon' help. Watch ya foot."

Jinju stepped away a moment and made a sudden movement with his hands. Instantly, four strange small carved rocks, pulsing red, yellow, blue, and green, appeared at his feet. "Ancestors! Appeah ta Jinju! I be seekin' ya counsel!"

Harry watched the mysterious ritual intently. At first, nothing was happening, but gradually he could hear a number of distant sounds that at once roared, groaned, creaked, and cracked. As if turning on an old television, four large figures came slowly into view, and Harry could see what Jinju had summoned. To Jinju's left, near the yellow stone, a great whirling cyclone, seemingly with hands and perhaps a face, stood still, while a being made of a pile of large rocks rumbled to his right near the green stone. Behind him, a monstrous hulk, made of pure fire, stayed near the red stone and looked around as if bored, and directly in front of him stood its opposite, a spirit appearing trapped in a body made of purest water, splashing everywhere yet not spilling a drop, kept close to the blue stone.

"Wise spirits o' de elements, Jinju-" began the troll, but an angry-sounding growl interrupted him, and he fell silent. The elements all turned to Harry, and spoke at once in their creaking, groaning, cracking, and roaring voices.

"HUMAN," they announced in a cacophony of sound. "YOUR KIND HAVE LITTLE FAVOR WITH US. YET THE WORDS ON THE WINDS HAVE REACHED US, AND WE HAVE FELT THE FIRES OF YOUR RAGE, THE TEARS OF YOUR HEART, AND THE QUAKES OF YOUR SPIRIT. THE PERIL YOU FACE REACHES BEYOND YOUR KEN. YOU MUST NOT FAIL IN YOUR QUEST."

"What can I do?" said Harry, astonished.

The noise subsided until all Harry could hear was the cracking voice, the one belonging to Fire. "THE ONE WHO VEXES YOU IS THE ELDEST, HE WHO CAME BEFORE THE DRAGONS, BEFORE THE TITANS, BEFORE EVEN THE OLD GODS . HE IS OF US AND YET NOT OF US, TORN ACROSS THE ETHER."

"I-I don't understand," admitted Harry. Titans? Old Gods? How was he supposed to defeat something older than a god?

The creaking voice of Earth spoke next. "HE IS KNOWN AS SAROS. YOU WOULD SPEAK OF HIM AS AN ELEMENT OF THE VOID, OF THE TWISTING NETHER, OF THE MIASMA BETWEEN WORLDS. CHAOS IS HIS DOMAIN, ENTROPY HIS SUSTENANCE."

"I still don't understand!" said Harry, annoyed.

The elementals paused for a moment, as if trying to figure out a way to explain it better to Harry. The groaning of Wind spoke up. "ALWAYS IN BALANCE WE KEEP THE WORLD, HUMAN. FIRE BURNS, WATER CLEANSES. EARTH RESOLVES, WIND BREATHES. THERE IS NOT ONE WITHOUT THE OTHER. HARMONY AND BALANCE, DESTRUCTION AND CREATION. EVEN IN YOUR OWN REALM, IT HAS EVER BEEN SO."

The last to be heard was the rushing voice of Water. "SAROS SEEKS TO END THE REIGN OF ORDER. HE HAS CONVINCED HIMSELF THAT HE POSSESSES THE ABILITY TO DESTROY AND RESHAPE EXISTENCE AS HE SEES FIT, AND THAT IT IS HIS MANIFEST DESTINY TO DO SO."

"HE DOES NOT UNDERSTAND THAT THERE IS A SIMPLER WAY. AMONG THE COSMOS THERE ARE COUNTLESS CELESTIAL BODIES THAT CONTAIN WITHIN THEM THE VERY ESSENCE OF NOTHINGNESS. YOU KNOW THEM AS BLACK HOLES, ONCE-BRIGHT STARS WHO BURNED THEMSELVES OUT AND COLLAPSED UPON THEMSELVES. WERE SAROS TO ENTER THE CENTER OF A BLACK HOLE, HE WOULD FIND HIMSELF IN AN ENTIRELY NEW UNIVERSE, ONE WITH DIFFERENT LAWS TO OBEY. PERHAPS OLDER, PERHAPS NEWER. WE ARE NOT GIVEN TO CONJECTURE AND MATTERS MORE IMPORTANT PRESS UPON US."

"But what does all this have to do with me?" said Harry, for what felt like the hundredth time.

"THE CREATION OF A NEW ELEMENT WAS THOUGHT TO BE IMPOSSIBLE, AND YET YOU HUMANS HAVE SUCCEEDED WHERE MYRIAD OTHERS HAVE FAILED," said Fire.

"THE OLD GODS BEGAN WITH CREATION, YET THAT IS SIMPLY AN ASPECT OF WATER. THE TITANS FORMED AND SHAPED THE WORLDS, YET THAT IS A POWER GOVERNED BY EARTH. THE DRAGONS BREATHED LIFE AND MAJESTY, YET IT WAS WITH THE BREATH OF WIND. ALL THE RACES THAT CAME BEFORE USED WHAT THEY BELIEVED TO BE THE HIGHEST POWER, YET NONE COULD TRULY HAVE KNOWN WHAT WAS TO BE."

"YOU HUMANS HAVE CREATED THE ELEMENT OF MAGIC. IT IS AT ONCE OUR FATHER AND OUR SON, OUR BROTHER AND OUR SISTER. IT CREATES ESSENCE OUT OF NOTHINGNESS, AND CREATES NOTHINGNESS OUT OF ESSENCE. YET IT TOO WORKS IN HARMONY, AS THERE IS ALWAYS A BALANCE EXACTED. NOTHING CAN BE CREATED OR DESTROYED WITHOUT PAYMENT."

"YOU, HARRY POTTER, ARE THE HUMAN MOST IN TUNE WITH THE ELEMENT OF MAGIC. DEEP WITHIN YOUR SOUL LIES AN UNTAPPED WELL OF IT, KEPT HIDDEN UNTIL SUCH TIME AS IT IS NEEDED. IT KEPT YOU ALIVE AS AN INFANT CHILD. IT PROVIDED YOU MEANS OF SURVIVAL UNTIL YOU COULD BE TAUGHT HOW TO HARNESS IT. IT PROTECTED YOU, DEFENDED YOU, COMFORTED YOU, AND BROUGHT YOU TO WHERE YOU ARE NOW, AND IT WILL CONTINUE TO SERVE YOU."

Jinju was watching, wide-eyed and silent, as Harry tried to take it all in, but he was struggling.

"Please," said Harry, nearly crying from exasperation. "Just tell me what I need to do."

"YOU MUST TAP THIS WELL OF MAGIC. CONFRONT SAROS IN HIS OWN REALM. CONVINCE HIM OF THE TRUTH OF YOUR WORDS WHERE ALL OTHERS HAVE FAILED. YOUR QUEST HAS BEEN TO GATHER OBJECTS OF THE OTHER MORTAL RACES OF THIS WORLD, HAS IT NOT?" asked Earth.

"Yes," said Harry, puzzled. "I'm still one short, though."

"THIS CUNNING TROLL WILL PROVIDE IT. WHEN YOU HAVE DONE THIS, YOU MUST ARRANGE THE SYMBOLS IN THIS PATTERN OF EARTH." A giant shimmering image of a garnet stone, with twelve faces cut glittering, appeared, slowly rotating. It reminded Harry of a twelve-sided die from one of Dudley's old Dungeons & Dragons sets. "IT IS THIS WAY THAT EACH SYMBOL WILL EQUAL THE OTHER ELEVEN, KEEPING BALANCE. WHEN THIS IS DONE, YOU MUST OPEN A PORTAL, USING THE SYMBOLS AS ANCHORS, AND ENTER IT."

"A-a portal? I don't know how-"

"THEN YOU MUST FIND ANOTHER WHO DOES. OUR POWER WANES. WE MUST RETURN TO OUR PLANES TO REST. TIME IS OF THE ESSENCE, HUMAN. MAKE HASTE."

The elementals flickered and faded from view, evidently returning home. Harry and Jinju both stood in stunned silence for a few moments, then Jinju was the first to speak.

"Ancestahs alive," he murmured in disbelief. "Jinju see now what him gon' do." He fished in his own sack and pulled out a small bauble. He handed it to Harry, who took it, gratefully.

It was some sort of coin, dark red and metallic. Some sort of inscription on the back written in an unintelligible language might have said what it was, but Harry couldn't read it.

"Dat be a bijou," explained Jinju. "A personal favor bestowed upon de servants o' de blood god Hakkar. Hakkar be not fully summoned, an' him be weak an' me help in him defeat many years ago and take it as spoils. Me be carryin' it as a remindah o' what be happenin' to de trolls. Now Jinju t'inkin' it be servin' a highah purpose. Take it wit' me blessin' and de blessin' o' de ancestahs."

"Thanks," said Harry, plunking it in his pouch. It suddenly felt warm and heavy, and Harry felt a little satisfied.

"De ancestahs say joo gotta open a portal, an' joo dunno how? Dey's someone nearby who can help joo. 'Fore me met you, me be t'inkin' she most powerful mage in Azeroth, but now me not so sure. An' fortune for joo, she right ovah dere." He pointed to a tiny white speck in the distance, and Harry recognized it as the island tower he had flown past only two days ago.

"Who is she?" said Harry.

Jinju grinned, flashing his tusks again. "Her name be Jaina Proudmoore."


	19. In Which Harry Meets Jaina

The white tower port city of Theramore lay just over the midday horizon. The gryphon beat its huge wings furiously; they were making good time, by Harry's reckoning, and yet he couldn't shake a disturbing feeling that something was amiss. He first noticed something awry when he passed an outcropping of rock that looked as though it did not belong there. It was much darker in color, much less jagged, and more weathered than the rocks surrounding it, as if an older stone had been dropped into the middle of a pile of younger rocks. An enormous geyser of oil spurted from the ocean surface moments before he flew over it, and he suspected it had not been there before he had arrived.

Then there was the shipwreck on one of the small islands, and Harry saw a group of some sort of fish people - murlocs, Indilwen had told him - investigating it. Harry would have thought the shipwreck mildly curious, had it not been for the distinctly familiar writing on the side of the ship. It was a one-man sailboat, and it bore the inscription "USS CATHERINE". _Funny to see a sailboat here, and an American one at that._ T_his Withering must be getting worse._

The closer to Theramore he got, the worse the damage appeared. To his right, a completely round circle of swampland, hills, and muck had been sawed out and replaced with a dry, crumbling desert. In the desert Harry saw several people, human and nonhuman alike, from what appeared to be a number of different time periods or even of different worlds. Here and there were several creatures that had not survived the transition, or that found the conditions of Azeroth untenable, writhing, flopping, and dying, gasping for the wrong air, or burning or freezing to death. Harry sighed and urged his gryphon faster.

The grand tower of Theramore was finally upon him, and to his utter horror Harry saw that the port was under attack. Shouts and yells erupted from everywhere around him. A savage-looking caveman swinging a deadly club was beating down on a town guard, and though he was armored, the guard was struggling to keep the caveman at bay; his skill and training were being outmatched by brute strength and endurance. Harry didn't wait for the gryphon to land. He leaped off its back into a somersault and vaulted into the fray. _ZIP_! The caveman's club turned on its owner, swinging itself in midair, chasing the caveman away from the beleaguered guard. Nearby, a two-headed donkey was breathing fire from one mouth and ice from the other, scorching and freezing any guards unlucky enough to get in its way. Harry flicked his wand, and two bubbles appeared around the creature's heads, denying it its deadly breath. A trio of beautiful but ferocious harpies were screaming, flying and darting in and out with razor-sharp claws and talons to pick off the wounded, but a quick Silencio put an end to their screeching.

Harry picked the nearest guard. "Where's Jaina Proudmoore?" he shouted, but before he could answer, an enormous metal fist - not attached to anything, just a floating metal fist - came out of nowhere and knocked the guard senseless. Harry changed tack and found another guard nearby, a woman. He had just barely managed to reach her when an enormous ball of dark green sludge hurled itself towards him. Harry quickly threw up a Protego just in time for it to splatter across his shield. The sludge seemed to be oozing and pulsing, seemingly with a heartbeat, but as its effort proved fruitless, it seeped off Harry's shield in search of other targets. When the sludge had disappeared, Harry turned to the guard.

"Where's Jaina Proudmoore?" asked Harry impatiently.

"Ain't here," came the reply, her voice belying a country dialect. "Ain't no help comin'. Yer on yer own, Harry Potter."

Harry scowled. "How do you know who I am?"

The guard flashed a grin. "Reckon everyone knows yer name b'now, Harry Potter. Reckon it's you what made all this fuss in th' first place, and ain't no finer a mess t'be made. Gallavantin' about, meetin' all th' folk a' Azeroth."

Harry's brow furrowed with irritation. "Who are you? How do you know this?"

The guard laughed at Harry. "Ain't ya done figgured it out, boy?"

"Figured what out?" said Harry, nearly shouting.

The guard shook her head, and at once her speech changed. "My friend, _I_ am Jaina Proudmoore." She removed her helmet to reveal a beautiful face, marked with long, flowing blonde hair.

"Forgive the disguise, Harry. I had to be certain it was you. You've been getting a bit of a reputation for yourself, and I needed to make sure it was not entirely unfounded," said Jaina. "Chromie! You can stop the illusion now!"

At once, the wild assortment of unnatural creatures and monstrosities disappeared from view entirely, and the guards were patrolling the town as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. A short gnome with white hair up in two buns approached him, vaguely smiling.

"Hello again, Harry Potter," said Chromie.

Harry was so surprised that he forgot to be angry at having fallen for the illusion. "Uhh...hello, Chromie," he said. "What...what's going on?"

The other four dragons - Alexstrasza, Kalecgos, Itharius, and an unknown dark-skinned elf - materialized from nowhere. Alexstrasza loomed over Harry and looked down at him, disapprovingly.

"I thought I made it abundantly clear that you were not to tell anyone of your quest, Harry Potter," she admonished. "Even Ysera had to rouse herself from the Emerald Dream to warn you. And yet you continued to defy orders."

"Yup," said Harry tersely. Harry was on the brink of exploding from rage, and he wondered exactly how much more he was supposed to take. Here he was, yanked out of his home world, thrown into this weird one with orcs and trolls and elves and Merlin-knows-what else, chased, attacked, nearly drowned, nearly disemboweled, nearly frozen to death, mentally tortured, and innumerable other things, and this snobby elf lady was rebuking him like a defiant child.

But Alexstrasza was no longer scolding him. She gave him an enormous smile. "Well done, Harry Potter. Your resourcefulness and natural diplomacy have served you far better than we could have hoped."

Harry was still fuming, but he calmed a bit. "What's going on? Why did you do that whole illusion?" he asked in a voice of forced calm.

"I'm afraid time is running out faster than we thought," she explained grimly, and Chromie gave a subdued snort. "Those illusions are not too far removed from what reality is going to be like for this world and all others if your quest is not completed soon."

"But I've got all the things!" said Harry, patting his sack. "All twelve items!"

Chromie shook her head sadly. "That won't be enough," said the gnome. "All our power combined won't be sufficient to activate the latent magic. We've tried everything we know of to unlock the ley lines and we can't come up with the right configuration."

Harry blinked, fazed. "Why not?"

Kalecgos spoke up. "Remember my words about the magic in this world being volatile and fluid? In the proper arrangements, the threads of reality can be unwound and resewn, as a string on a piece of cloth. Imagine that not only is the string unravelling, it is turning to dust in your fingers. It would be impossible to reconstruct the cloth in this manner, and there are innumerable other cloths and strings making up the worlds."

Harry inhaled. "I think I understand. But the elements said-"

The dark-skinned elf interrupted him brusquely. "What? What elements? When did you talk to them? What did they say?" she demanded.

"They said I needed to put the items in a certain order and then I had to open a portal and...'confront Saros in his own realm'."

Alexstrasza looked puzzled. "Who is Saros?"

Harry's jaw dropped. How could the dragons not know who he was? "He...he's the one who's responsible for this. They tried to explain, and I think he's sort of a...space elemental?"

The aspects looked at each other nervously. "The elementals are ageless, older even than we," said Alexstrasza, visibly worried. "The Netherwing dragonflight are our cousins, but theirs is a shattered world, and they are in ruins, dying. We thought the void elementals in their realm were but a nuisance, an odd byproduct of the breaking apart of Draenor."

"Breaking apart?" asked Harry.

Alexstrasza nodded gravely. "When the Burning Legion invaded, such was the raw fel energy used by Sargeras to summon portals to it that the entire world was broken. Now only a few lands remain, drifting through the Twisting Nether. I fear a much worse fate awaits us if we cannot determine the next course of action."

"I know!" said Harry, half angry, half anxious. "I know. The elementals told me what I had to do next."

"Please, speak, Harry," said Alexstrasza.

"Okay. Does anyone have a garnet stone?"

The dark-skinned elf rolled her eyes and snorted. "Have to do everything, don't I?" She huffed, and a second later a shiny twelve-sided garnet, perfectly smooth and orange, appeared in her hand. She handed it to Harry as if she were giving up an egg from her own precious clutch.

"This had better work, human," she said acidly.

Harry drew his wand and pointed it at the garnet.

"_Engorgio_!" The stone slowly grew in size until it was larger than Harry.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" The stone levitated a few feet in front of him and began rotating randomly. He opened his pack and carefully placed the twelve items on the ground.

"_Suggero_!" One by one, each of the items he had collected - the axe, the key, the stone, the gear, the earring, the windchime, the plant, the tooth, the coin, the crystal, the bone, and the bijou - floated to the garnet and affixed itself to a corner. The garnet seemed to take no notice and continued whirling in place.

"Now what?" said Chromie.

"They said I needed to open a portal to his realm," repeated Harry. "But I don't know how to do that,"

"I do," chimed in Jaina. "But you'll need to be prepared first, Harry." She reached into a fold of her robe, produced a small pouch, and withdrew a handful of a strange green dust. Moments later, the dust had disappeared, and in its place in her hand lay an empty glass bottle with a cork stopper in the neck.

"This is a bottle of air," she explained. "Once you open it, it will create a cloud of endless air. Within this cloud, you can breathe normally."

"We can't have you floating around in the middle of the Twisting Nether forever, either, so I'm going to open the portal to the Blue Child." She pointed up, but it was still midday, and Harry couldn't see what she was pointing at. "Our second moon," she explained. "It's on an eccentric orbit so you can't see it unless you know where to look."

"Wait a second. I'm going to the _moon_?" asked Harry, incredulous.

"Yes," said Jaina matter-of-factly. "There's no telling how long it's going to take, so here," she offered. She held out a small stone with a rune etched into it. "It's a Rune of Portals. Concentrate on returning here while you hold it and speak 'Theramore' and it will create a portal for you."

Harry nodded and thanked Jaina, grateful for the assistance; he hadn't thought of how he would get back.

"There is one final thing, Harry," said Alexstrasza. "Even one as powerful as yourself is not invulnerable. You will need assistance." She trilled a note, long and lilting, and suddenly eleven red drakes appeared overhead. Harry's heart soared as he saw the dragons' riders; all his new friends from Azeroth he had met over the past few days. Negragh had outfitted himself with a new, sharp-looking axe. Sharla's shield was clean and polished. Gibble's robe was as good as new. Doruu carried a large book with a symbol matching her necklace, presumably a book of prayers. Indilwen, Malchior, and Splatterpaw were looking hale and hearty. Harry waved, and was immediately met with a score of cheers and applause. He was immeasurably glad to see all of them, even the Forsaken woman he hadn't met yet.

"Name's Anne Deathscythe," she said as they all dismounted from the drakes. "No time for history. This big dragon here said I'd get rich if I killed some weird elemental thing, so I sharpened my sword and came along for the ride."

"Works for me," said Harry.

"The High Magister sends his regards, but he will be unable to accompany you and has asked that you stand in his place," said Alexstrasza.

"Me?" asked Harry.

All eleven members of his group nodded. "Point me somewhere and I'll slice an' dice 'em!" said Negragh.

"We are all committed to assisting you, Harry," said Gibble. "I have not forgotten your heroism in banishing the demons and saving my life."

"Doruu remembers your kind heart, Harry," said the draenei with a smile.

"An' yer respect fer everyone," said Sharla.

"We are honored to put our differences aside and fight for the greater good," said Malchior.

"De ancestahs done spoke ta Jinju, mon," said the troll. "Dey say dis mission be mo' impotant den any Jinju evah done."

Harry's heart swelled with pride, and he beamed. Even the members of the Horde least likely to cooperate with the Alliance had offered their services to him, if for reasons less than noble. Still, beggars couldn't be choosers, and he was glad to have all the help he could get.

"Alright, then," said Harry. "Twelve it is."

Jaina nodded. "If you are prepared, Harry, then now is the time. Mass Teleport!"

In an instant, the party vanished, leaving Jaina and the dragons behind.

"Will this work?" asked Jaina. "Will Harry be able to succeed?"

Alexstrasza did not answer at first, but only looked toward the sky. "He must succeed," she answered finally. "He _must_."


	20. In Which Harry Saves The Universe

Harry's head swam. One minute, he was standing in a gleaming white port town, breathing fresh air, with a warm midday sun beating down on him. The next moment, he was gasping and choking in the middle of icy cold space on some unknown moon, trying as hard as he could to find oxygen and struggling to get the stopper out of the small bottle of air. Within seconds, he had managed to pop it off and the little bottle poured out a steaming cloud of pure air. He gulped and panted as the cloud enveloped the large tableau of blue-grey rock he found himself standing on. A dome of a light grey smoky mist soon covered the platform of lunar rock, and to Harry's great relief he immediately noticed a warming sensation; evidently the air was enchanted to keep them all from freezing to death.

He took a minute to catch his breath and clear his head, and he was stunned by what he saw. He was most assuredly no longer on Azeroth, at least not its surface, as the giant, spinning planet was several hundred thousand miles below him, a splattering of brown and green land on a sea of blue, set among a backdrop of an inky black curtain dotted with bright little holes. It resembled Earth, though it was a bit smaller, and Harry immediately thought of home. He had lost track of how long he'd been gone - had it been a week or a month? - and he wondered how Ginny and Ron and Hermione were doing.

The platform of rock he was standing on also contained a pyramid of four large metal machines, all humming and all connected by a strange, glowing electricity. The dome of air seemed to end just inside the ring, as if it were keeping the air in place. Moments later, the remainder of his party materialized from nowhere in a large circle around him. Harry supposed he had been sent ahead to prepare their destination.

"So, what's the story, mate?" said Splatterpaw, sniffing the strange air. "We're on the moon or summat? Ain't that a treat! What's our move?"

"Er," began Harry. The truth was, he really didn't know. "I suppose we should...er... assign strategies, I guess."

The others nodded. "I will stand in front and keep the monster's attention," said Malchior. "My natural armor will protect me."

Sharla knocked a hand on her armor. "Well, me armor ain't natural, but it's some o' the best around. Built like a Dwarf steamtank."

"Alright. Is there a Healer?" asked Harry.

"Very strong with most holy Light," said Doruu. "Doruu will pray for friends. Light answer prayer, mend wounds, soothe pain."

"I, too, am versed in the arts of restoration," said Indilwen. "Elune's child shall grant me his blessing."

Harry nodded his assent. "Alright. What else do we have?"

Negragh waved an axe. "I like to look 'em in the eye as I slice 'em up," said the orc.

"Hehe, me too, brother," chimed in Axle.

"I'll rip 'em to shreds, mate," snickered Splatterpaw.

"Not if I do it first!" sneered Anna.

"Jinju be perfectly alright from back heah," said the troll.

"My effective distance also exceeds close range," commented Gibble.

"You know I'm much better with long, hard things," said Raewen coyly. "Short sticks just aren't my style."

Harry did a quick head count. "Alright. The way I see it, we've got two protectors, two healers, four close-range fighters, and four long-range fighters. I say we split up into two groups. Half and half," said Harry. "Let's go around the circle, starting with...you." He pointed at Doruu. "Group one." He continued sorting until Malchior, Doruu, Splatterpaw, Axle, Gibble, and Raewen were in the first group, and he, Sharla, Indilwen, Negragh, Jinju, and Anna were in the second.

"Everyone, use your strengths together," said Harry, feeling a bit foolish at how pretentious he felt. "We're all in this together, like it or not. This isn't Horde against Alliance. This is everyone against some...thing that wants to destroy us. It doesn't want us to suffer. It doesn't want to take what we have. It just wants us, and everyone and everything we know and love gone. And I will _not_ let that happen."

The battle cries were tremendous, and Harry felt an enormous surge of pride and affection for his comrades. "Just one question, pal," said Axle. "How do we get this party started?"

Harry had to admit he hadn't thought that far in advance. The question was soon answered for him, though, with a giant rumbling that shook the surface of the moon, sending dust flying everywhere.

"FINITE ENTITIES," came a sinister, booming voice. "YOUR EXISTENCE IS NO LONGER TENABLE. YOUR INTRUSION INTO MY DOMAIN NECESSITATES YOUR IMMEDIATE REMOVAL."

"No!" shouted Harry. "We're not letting you get away with this!"

A swirling mist appeared in the center of the dome. "THE ELECTROSTATIC BONDS IN YOUR MOLECULES WILL BE RENDERED INERT. YOUR ATOMS WILL DISSIPATE INTO THE VOID AND THE STORAGE MEDIUM OF YOUR COLLECTIVE CONSCIOUSNESS WILL BE ERASED."

"What?" yelled Negragh.

"He said we're gonna die," explained Anna.

"Show yourself, Saros!" demanded Harry.

The voice paused a moment before responding. "YOUR AWARENESS EXTENDS TO MY DESIGNATION. THIS IS UNFORESEEN, BUT YOUR PROPOSAL IS ACCEPTABLE," it echoed. The swirling mist gathered itself in a blurry vortex and slowly formed into a vaguely humanoid essence. It was a golem, nearly twice Harry's height, made up of an incalculable number of the same void orbs that Harry had seen in his nightmare fantasy. Each orb was also made up of a number of smaller orbs, which were in turn made up of even smaller orbs, so that the entire being looked like a giant handful of black and purple marbles.

"MINISCULE BEINGS, I AM OF THE COSMOS, TIMELESS AND INFINITE. YOUR STRUCTURE AND ESSENCE ARE SUBOPTIMAL. REFORGING THE UNIVERSE REQUIRES AN AMOUNT OF ENERGY ORDERS OF MAGNITUDE HIGHER THAN ANY CONVERSION ATTEMPTED BEFORE."

"But you'll be destroyed, too!" shouted Indilwen.

"INCONSEQUENTIAL BEING! DO YOU BELIEVE ME CONSTRAINED TO YOUR LAWS OF PHYSICS? ONCE THE MATTER CONVERTERS HAVE REACHED CRITICAL MASS, THEY WILL BEGIN A CHAIN REACTION IN WHICH ALL MATTER AND ENERGY WILL COLLAPSE UPON ITSELF, AND I WILL BEGIN ANEW. ONLY NOW HAVE I OBTAINED THE FINAL EQUATIONS. THEY EXIST ON A LEVEL OF CONSCIOUSNESS TOO ADVANCED FOR YOUR MICROSCOPIC FLESH TO COMPREHEND," stated Saros.

"That is patently untrue!" cried Gibble. "We gnomes can comprehend nearly anything!"

"YOUR CHALLENGE IS ACCEPTED." One of Saros' orbs flew off and inserted itself onto Gibble's forehead, where it melted into his skull. Gibble grabbed his head with both hands, yelling in agony, shaking and struggling to absorb the knowledge. His eyes turned as black as space for a moment. Harry was afraid Gibble wasn't going to be able to handle it, but he saw Doruu silently mouthing a prayer, and Gibble's eyes cleared and he relaxed.

"IMPOSSIBLE!" said Saros, annoyed. "YOUR UNDERSTANDING OF THESE MATTERS IS TOO LIMITED. YOU ARE UNFIT TO RETAIN SUCH KNOWLEDGE."

Gibble only shook his head and smiled. "Gnome intelligence is second to none."

Saros turned in Harry's direction. "YOU ARE THE ONE DESIGNATED HARRY POTTER. KNOW THAT IN YOUR IMPATIENCE AND BLIND TRUST YOU HAVE LED YOURSELF AND YOUR SYSTEM OF OTHER MORTALS INTO OBLIVION. THE ONES YOU DESIGNATE AS THE DRAGONFLIGHT HAVE PERPETUATED A MYRIAD OF FALSEHOODS."  
>Harry was angry. "What are you talking about?"<p>

"THE CLASSIFICATIONS OF THE DIFFERENT EVOLUTIONARY STRUCTURES OF THAT PLANET," responded Saros. "THE DRAGONS INFORMED YOU THAT THERE WERE ONLY TWELVE PRIMARY RACES, AND THIS DATA IS MISREPRESENTATIVE. THERE ARE SO MANY, MANY MORE THAN THAT." Another of Saros' orbs detached itself from his body, and another orb fell into its place.

It grew in size and form, until it was a glowing transparent blue. Suddenly, a shape formed in the center of it. A large sort of panda bear was walking on two legs, wearing a straw hat and martial gi, and wielding a thick cane.  
>"THIS ONE IS CLASSIFIED AS A PANDAREN," said Saros. The Pandaren disappeared, only to be replaced by a large bison man, shaggy and fierce. "THE TAUNKA, FAMILY TO YOUR TAUREN ALLY." Malchior looked surprised at the mention. The taunka was replaced by a fat walrus man - or woman, it was hard to tell - with long drooping tusks and a bushy mustache. "THE KALU'AK. WALRUS PEOPLE OF THE NORTHERN BIOME." Swish. Enormous spiders with what may have been human-like bodies. "THE NERUBIANS. AGGRESSIVE SAPIENT SPIDERS." Swish. A half humanoid, half lion creature. "THE RAMKAHEN. LION PEOPLE OF THE DESERT REGION." Swish. A muscled, stout dwarf-like creature. "THE EARTHEN. FORMED EONS AGO FROM MATRICES OF INORGANIC MATTER." Swish. "I get it!" yelled Harry. "What does this have to do with the dragonflights?"<p>

"THEY TOLD YOU THAT IN ORDER FOR YOU TO SUCCEED, IT WAS NECESSARY FOR YOU TO COLLECT AN ITEM REPRESENTATIVE OF EACH OF THE MAJOR RACES OF AZEROTH. THIS WAS A FALSEHOOD."

"I don't believe you!" said Harry.

"IRRELEVANT," boomed Saros. "IN PRECISELY EIGHT TRILLION, TWO HUNDRED SEVENTY-NINE BILLION, FIVE HUNDRED FORTY-EIGHT MILLION, TWO HUNDRED THIRTY-THREE THOUSAND PERIODS OF RADIATION OF THE HYPERFINE LEVELS OF AN ISOTOPE OF CESIUM, THE MATTER CONVERTERS WILL REACH CRITICAL MASS. I WILL CONVERGE THEM AND BEGIN THE CHAIN REACTION."

Gibble's mind was working furiously. "That's fifteen minutes from now!" he exclaimed.

"AFFIRMATIVE," said Saros. "YOU HAVE THAT PERIOD OF TIME TO PREPARE FOR OBLIVION."

"NO!" shouted Harry. "Maybe the dragons did lie. Maybe they sent me on a stupid wild goose chase. It doesn't matter! I don't care! I won't let you do this!" snarled Harry, drawing his wand. "This ends now!"

"IGNORANT HUMAN," said Saros. "THIS ENDS FIFTEEN MINUTES FROM NOW."

Harry had finally had enough of Saros. He raised his wand and signalled his compatriots. Malchior and Splatterpaw disappeared, to be instantly replaced by their bear and cat forms. A small altar appeared, its sconce filled with glowing white water, courtesy of Doruu. Indilwen's eyes glowed, and Harry suddenly felt stronger and smarter, more in tune with his own movements. He felt an invisible hand guiding his wand hand, and he smiled; he was sure he wouldn't miss with his spells. Negragh roared, "LOK'TAR OGAR!", and everyone, Harry included, echoed him. He didn't know what it meant, but it felt good to say it. Sharla's shield glowed a brilliant gold. Axle's daggers were dripping with sick green poison. Jinju's four totems were at his feet, and three small orbs of lightning were orbiting around him dutifully. Anna was busy with a deadly spell of her own, drawing an unholy purple circle and summoning the spirit of whatever she could reach to inhabit the nearest deceased body. Gibble had finished his summoning, and his tiny black imp Pagzip was preparing one of its little fireball spells. Harry's nerves were on edge, but he steeled himself and took a deep breath.

"NOW!" shouted Harry. The two groups rushed at Saros from both sides. Malchior sprinted faster than any bear Harry had ever seen, and began swiping and tearing at Saros' void spheres. One of them came loose, only to be replaced by another from inside Saros' body.

"Don't keep aiming at the same spot!" commanded Harry. Reluctant though he was to be chosen as a leader, now was not the time for modesty. "Change it up!"

Axle darted in and out like a ghost, daggers removing orbs, spreading out in a fan of knives. Sharla pounded relentlessly with her lethal mace. Splatterpaw's claws raked orbs away. Raewen's arrows landed, again and again, each one shattering orbs where they struck. Anna and her...whatever creature it was, that looked and smelled like a corpse, were slicing and gnawing at any loose part of Saros they could find.

"Keep it up!" encouraged Harry. His own spells, his _Diffindo_ and _Sectumsempra_ and even _Crucio_, were scoring direct hits, and they seemed to be making some headway in removing his orbs. But to Harry's dismay, the loose pieces of Saros' form were regrouping and floating back into his body, regenerating him.

"YOU ARE NOTHING," boomed Saros. "YOUR DISMAL EFFORTS WILL ONLY DEEPEN YOUR DESPAIR. YOU HAVE ELEVEN MINUTES."

"You have to destroy the orbs, not just remove them!" yelled Harry. "Group one, pull off all the orbs! Group two, pick a partner and destroy them!" Group two, Harry's group, did as he said, and soon each member was paired up with someone. Harry found himself with Negragh.

"Don't go in a pattern, Negragh!" said Harry. "He'll see it coming! Mix it up and make it random!"  
>"Got it!" came the reply, and Negragh started interchanging his slices with his slashes, his thrusts with his chops. He spun his axes in a whirlwind of fury, daring Saros to come near him.<p>

'ENOUGH!" said Saros, and Harry was thrilled to hear a note of temper in the elemental's voice. "YOUR INTERFERENCE IS BECOMING NOISOME. YOU SHOULD HAVE SPENT YOUR LAST FEW MOMENTS ACCEPTING THE INEVITABLE. NOW I MUST EXACT A PENALTY." Saros sent a multitude of orbs out in every direction, several of them connecting. A chorus of painful cries erupted, and Harry winced. But Doruu had been one of the lucky ones not hit, and she was more than up to the task of purging the corruption of Saros' orbs. Renewed, they all doubled their efforts, and Saros was getting noticeably thinner.

"FIVE MINUTES REMAIN," said Saros. "THAT IS ALL THAT STANDS BETWEEN YOU AND THE ENDLESS NIGHTMARE OF THE VOID." He sent out more orbs, many more than previously, but Harry had predicated that Saros might try again, and he was ready.

"Start moving!" he shouted as soon as he saw the first orb move. Everyone sidestepped or strafed, and only poor Splatterpaw was hit this time. Doruu's prayers were working miracles, and with every jab, every crackle of energy spent, Harry felt one step closer to defeating Saros. Saros then did something that sent a chill through Harry. He sent four orbs up in a pyramid, and they began to rotate and spin. At first, Harry thought it was going to emite some sort of beam or something, but it only formed a small vortex. Then, to his shock, the vortex began to suck the air from the bubble into itself; Saros had discovered the purpose of the bubble.

"Hold on, everyone! Things might get a little weird here!" Thinking quickly, he cast a series of Bubble-Head Charms over everyone. Soon, eleven faces looked back at him, each staring as if they had been stuck inside a fishbowl.

"_Engorgio_!" The Bubble-Heads grew until they enveloped everyone in a thick envelope of protection, leaving their weapons and sharp claws free, and no sooner had Harry completed casting the spell around himself than the pyramid of orbs had finished removing all the oxygen from the area, and everyone was looking at the backdrop of stars once again.

"TWO MINUTES REMAIN," said Saros, and Harry was incensed.

"Pull out all the stops!" shouted Harry, his voice sounding strange and muffled. "Don't hold anything back! If you have any special tricks or last-chance moves, this is the time to use them!"

Jinju uttered some words in a foreign language, and Harry felt a burst of heroism flood over him. He furiously sent spell after spell, crushing Saros' orbs in a flurry of magic, and he noticed that the others were following suit, frenetically slashing, slicing, and searing.

"ONE MINUTE REMAINS. WHY DO YOU RESIST? WHAT MAKES YOUR EXISTENCE SO WORTHWHILE?" asked Saros, his form weak and diminishing.

"EVERYTHING!" screamed Harry. "EVERYTHING WE HAVE, OR WANT, OR THINK, OR FEEL, OR SAY, OR DO IS WORTH DEFENDING! EVERYONE WE LOVE AND CARE FOR IS WORTH DYING FOR!"

"INCOMPLETE DATA. WHAT IS MEANT BY LOVE?"

"There's no data because you can't quantify it!" snarled Harry. "It isn't data or facts or numbers or anything like that!"

And suddenly, everything Harry had done over the past weeks had fallen into place. The things he had learned...the experiences he had been through...being torn from his home and thrown into a world he barely understood...nearly being blown up...being sent into the middle of a frozen wasteland...it all clicked. He knew what he had to do next.

"But I'll tell you what love is!" said Harry. "Love is strength! Strength to admit when you're vulnerable!" Harry pointed his wand at Negragh, who floated to a position just outside of Saros.

"Love is tenacity! Fighting for love makes it mean something!" Anna was next, floating to a position opposite Negragh.

"Love is generosity! You give love, you get love!" Axle floated up and above Saros, forming a triangle.

"Love is curiosity! Finding out the good and the bad and loving no matter what!" Gibble was next, completing the square.

"Love is honor! Always keeping your word!" Sharla took a spot down below Saros.

"Love is bravery! Putting yourself in harm's way to protect the ones you love!" Malchior was across from Sharla.

"Love is passion! Never doing things halfway!" Raewen floated directly above Malchior.

"Love is compromise! Putting their needs above yours!" Splatterpaw was on Saros' side.

"Love is wisdom! Learning from each others' experiences and listening to them!" Jinju floated to a position behind Saros.

"Love is patience! You plant a seed of love, you nurture it, and you watch it grow into love that lasts forever!" Indilwen was on Saros' other side.

"Love is kindness! You do things for people you love just because it makes them happy!" Doruu's position was above and behind Saros.

"AND YOU?" said Saros. "WHAT IS LOVE TO YOU?"

"Love is..." started Harry. "Love...is magic." He floated himself into position, facing Saros, in the same twelve-sided figure that had brought him there, with Saros in the core, surrounded by all of them. He remembered his first kiss with Ginny, how he had felt in tune with her, with himself, with the whole world, and cast his spell.

"EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

The world exploded.

* * *

><p>Harry would recall later not really knowing how he had returned to Azeroth, except that he must have, at some point, remembered what he was doing and used his rune stone to teleport them all back to Theramore. What he did remember was Alexstrasza, Chromie, Kalecgos, and Itharius beaming at him, shaking his hand and clapping him on the back. Even the dark-skinned elf woman managed a half-smile and a courteous nod.<p>

After he had said his goodbyes to all his friends and they had left, he turned to the dragons. "I must beg your indulgence and apologize for the subterfuge, Harry," said Alexstrasza, semi-seriously. "Naturally, there are a great many races living and sharing this world. But the simple fact was that we were presented with a challenge unlike any we had ever encountered, and we did not have the slightest notion on how to proceed. That is why we chose you. You have been through many challenges in your short life, yet you do not give up hope or run from adversity."

"If I had ever given up hope or run away, I wouldn't be the person I am," said Harry.

"That's true," agreed Chromie. "And you wouldn't be where you are now."

"Speaking of which," said Harry. "Can I go home now?" I'm sure my wife and my friends are going nuts looking for me."

Chromie shook her head. "Don't forget, Harry, I'm a guardian of the timestreams. I can have you back before you left."

"That...won't be necessary," said Harry, grinning and remembering his third year at Hogwarts. "But five or ten minutes after would be great."

"The world of Azeroth owes you a great debt which it can never repay," said Alexstrasza. "But I believe we can offer you a small token of our gratitude."

She produced a beautiful silver ring, inlaid with a dozen bright, glittering gemstones: a garnet, an amethyst, an aquamarine, a diamond, an emerald, a pearl, a ruby, a peridot, a sapphire, an opal, a topaz, and a turquoise. "This should serve as a reminder of what you have accomplished here today, Harry. One stone for each friend. And you need not worry about embarassing explanations - once you put it on, only you will be able to see it."  
>Harry took the ring and slid it on his right ring finger. It fit perfectly, and felt smooth and warm. He smiled. "Thanks."<p>

"And do not concern yourself with the fortunes of your friends," said Itharius. "One day, you may see them again."

"I think he's deserved a rest first," said Chromie. "Ready to go?"

Harry nodded. "Ready."

There was a single flash, and Harry disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. He appeared in Kingsley's office, coming out of the fireplace, slightly out of sorts. "There you are, Harry," said Kingsley. "I thought you were coming right over."

"I, er, had to make a ... detour," said Harry.

Kingsley nodded, thinking he understood. "I see. Let's get a bite to eat, shall we?"

Harry had never been so hungry in his life.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:** And that concludes our little epic. Thank you all so much for reading along! Special thanks to the players of Malchior, Indilwen, and Splatterpaw for allowing me to use the likenesses of their characters. There is a planned sequel in the works, not to fret! Thanks again!

-Gryff


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